


The Consort

by Drops_of_Nightshade



Series: Balance [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 17-Year-Old Harry, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Established Relationship, Horcruxes, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry, Male Slash, Moral Ambiguity, Possessive Behavior, Pureblood Politics, Pureblood Society, Sane Voldemort, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:39:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3376778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drops_of_Nightshade/pseuds/Drops_of_Nightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Courtesan: A year has passed and in that time Harry has embraced his position as the Dark Lord's future Consort. Graduation from Hogwarts, an impending marriage and the distant yet undeniable threat of the Order loom on the horizon. Harry continues to champion the rights of muggleborns and half-bloods alike, even as he navigates the complex world of pureblood society. Established Lord Voldemort/Harry Potter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – St. Mungo’s Hospital_

December 1997

* * *

‘Well you’re not getting any worse.’

Harry Potter glared towards his friend Daphne Greengrass, who stared at him critically in return, a hint of playfulness in her hazel eyes.

‘It’s not my fault I can’t dance,’ Harry muttered irritably, leaning against a wall to catch his breath.

‘Come on, we still have an hour until our next class,’ Daphne said with ruthless determination. ‘Let’s at least attempt to teach you how to move without stepping on your partner’s feet.’

With a groan, Harry pushed off the wall and moved toward the blonde-haired girl. She was a harsh taskmaster, but it was the only way Harry was going to be ready in time for the Yule Ball.

With a flick of her wand, Daphne started the old phonograph in the corner, which came to life and filled the room they were practicing in with the melody of a smooth waltz.

Carefully placing his hands in the correct positions, Harry reminded himself not to stare at his feet as they started to move. At the cost of keeping his eyes on Daphne’s face, within a minute he had stepped on the pureblood’s toes three times.

Eventually Daphne pulled away, and said with true exasperation in her voice, ‘Enough. We’re just not getting anywhere.’

With a mixture of relief and disappointment welling up inside of him, Harry turned off the phonograph with a flick of wandless magic. Daphne barely blinked at the show of powerful magic, having watched Harry complete many such feats in the past year. He no longer hid his capabilities, at least not in front of his friends, and only used a wand when in class.  

‘What are you two doing?’

Turning around, Harry and Daphne spotted their friend Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorway to the chamber they were in, grey eyes curious.

‘Daphne’s been teaching me how to dance,’ Harry explained.

‘ _Trying_ to teach you how to dance,’ Daphne corrected.

A smirk flitted across Draco’s face and he asked in a tone of voice that Harry would have interpreted as malicious if he hadn’t known the pureblood so well, ‘Not having any luck?’

Harry scowled at Draco whilst Daphne cried indignantly, ‘I’d like to see you try and teach him! The minute he starts to dance it’s like he has the grace of a flobberworm.’

‘Thanks for the encouragement Daph,’ Harry muttered sarcastically.

Daphne made a face that would have made her etiquette teacher cry, drawing a bout of laughter from Draco.

Looking at the Malfoy heir, Harry felt a warm burst of happiness in his chest at the reminder that the pureblood teen had finally opened up to him. They had, had a cautious beginning; with Draco making it clear he was only interested in Harry for the sake of an advantageous connection. However after Draco had been kidnapped by Fleur Delacour and had finally returned to school shortly before Harry himself, a change had occurred in him, at least around those he trusted. Perhaps the experience had shaken him enough to seek out people to confide in, Harry was not entirely sure.  

In public he was the cold and collected Malfoy heir, but like Daphne, he had finally learned to balance the image he presented to society and the one he shared with those he deemed reliable. It was a welcome change, and Harry knew that between Draco, Daphne and Luna his time at Hogwarts was worth every moment spent away from his lover.  

‘Why is Daph teaching you to dance anyway?’ Draco asked questioningly. ‘I’ve seen you dance with the Dark Lord, even just recently at the Mabon celebration a few months back. You were actually quite good.’

‘That’s the thing; I only look good because I am dancing with the Dark Lord. He has a way of making even the most incompetent dancer look talented as long as they’re by his side.’ Harry looked dejected as he said this, because despite feeling co-ordinated and graceful when with his lover, he knew the minute he changed partners it would reveal the truth of his ineptitude.

‘Ah of course,’ Draco said, finally understanding. ‘You’re going to have to dance with multiple partners at the Yule Ball.’

It was tradition that on the night of the winter solstice there was to be a great feast, the longest night of the year passed with full stomachs and in good company. The following day was an opportunity for family and friends to exchange gifts. The night of the next day, after the day of giving and receiving, was when the Yule Ball was being held.

The Dark Lord was hosting the three days of celebration at the Citadel, with many notable pureblood families and Ministry officials alike being invited. It was an opportunity for Harry to win over reticent purebloods that were disgruntled with his campaigning over the past year to bring equality to wizarding Britain.

The previous year the Dark Lord had abstained from holding the celebration, as he did not wish to compromise Harry’s safety by inviting hundreds of people to the Citadel, not after his kidnapping. Even though there had been balls and celebrations after this time, Harry had never been expected to leave the Dark Lord’s side.

There was no chance to remain by his lover for this celebration though. It was a crucial opportunity to impress the purebloods and win them over. Yet if he couldn’t even dance without his lover holding his hand, how in Merlin’s name was he going to survive through the political minefield to come?

Feeling exhausted, Harry sat down on the floor of the chamber and buried his head between his knees, hands clasped loosely in front.

‘I am so screwed.’

Daphne sat beside him with a sigh, carefully rearranging her school uniform so it would not crinkle. She bumped his shoulder comfortingly with her own as she said, ‘It’s only the fifteenth. Including today we still have five more days of school left before the holidays and the start of Yuletide.’

Harry was surprised when Draco moved to claim the position on his other side, the pureblood wrinkling his nose slightly at the sight of the dusty flagstones before steeling himself and sitting down.

‘I can help too, if you want. It’s important for you to practice with both a male and female partner,’ Draco said in an instructional manner. ‘As the future Lord Consort you will be a sought-after dance partner at the Ball.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ Harry moaned.

Daphne forcibly grabbed his jaw and jerked his head up to meet her hazel eyes. ‘We can do this,’ she promised, fingers tight against his face. ‘Draco and I are going to get you ready for the Yule Ball, and you’re going to show all of those people that you are the best and only candidate for the position of Lord Consort.’

Daphne had a way of making people follow her, through sheer strength of will and character. Harry often felt equal parts respect and slight fear when the blonde-haired girl set her mind on something.

If Daphne Greengrass said something was going to happen, it was going to happen.

* * *

Arriving for a double period of Healing at the end of the day, Harry and Daphne slipped into the back of the class and found seats on either side of Luna. Daphne did not even raise a fuss about sitting next to Luna, not like she would have done in the past. The two girls had a healthy regard for one another, and despite not being close; they each considered the other an ally.

‘What did we miss, Luna?’ Harry asked the dreamy Seer, observing their fellow classmates bustle around the classroom collecting potions and filling the space with the sound of excited chatter.

‘The seventh year students are going to St. Mungo’s for some practical training. Madame Pomfrey is staying behind to teach the sixth year students,’ Luna informed Harry. Then a beat later she said, ‘You’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.’

Sure enough, Madame Pomfrey was ushering the first seventh year student into a fireplace, no doubt connected via the Floo network to the wizarding hospital. Each student was carrying their medical kit, complete with the essentials.

‘Thanks Luna!’ Harry said as he grabbed Daphne and pulled her over to the cupboard where their kits were kept. Once they were fully equipped, the duo was just in time to be checked off by Madame Pomfrey and sent through the fireplace.

Daphne went first, disappearing in a flash of emerald fire, and as Harry made to follow her, a gentle hand held him back.

‘A quick word, Mr Potter?’ the school’s matron asked.

‘Of course.’

Ignoring the sixth year students who watched them with curiosity – besides Luna who seemed mightily interested in the dust mites billowing in the light of the window – Madame Pomfrey cast a silencing charm so that their conversation would remain private.

‘I wanted to assure you that the staff of St. Mungo’s have been instructed to have the utmost discretion in regards to your person being present at the hospital this afternoon. Should any reporters arrive, they will be turned away by security,’ the matron promised with steely surety in her voice. ‘Furthermore, the Dark Lord himself has given approval for you to leave the castle’s wards, with the expectation that you will be guarded for the duration of your hospital visit.’

Harry blinked; surprised that he might not have been allowed to attend the practical training session if his future husband had not given his consent. He understood his lover’s determination to never allow Harry to be kidnapped or harmed again, after the events of last year, and especially considering their shared magical core and its dangerous implications.

But Harry was seventeen years old now, legally an adult and fully capable of making his own decisions. If he could propose new laws and abolish old ones, then surely he was mature enough to attend a school training program without the Dark Lord having to get involved.

Realising that Madame Pomfrey was waiting for some sort of confirmation from him, Harry offered her a tight smile and asked, ‘Who will be guarding me while at St. Mungo’s?’

He appreciated the protective gesture, but sharing a magical core with the Dark Lord himself had given Harry an impressive reserve of power to utilise. If there was a fight, Harry knew he would probably end up guarding his security.

‘I believe a certain Remus Lupin will be meeting you on the other side.’

Harry smiled genuinely at that, recognising his lover’s attempt at a compromise. The Dark Lord was ensuring Harry would be protected, but at the same time choosing someone who the young man would enjoy being around.

‘Thank you Madame Pomfrey,’ Harry said, and as the woman gave him a kindly nod in return and brought down the privacy ward, Harry scooped up a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the grate of the fireplace.

‘St. Mungo’s foyer!’ Harry called out clearly and threw the powder down.

He was pulled away in a swirl of heatless flame and whirled through the network in a sickeningly fast blur.

When he touched down, months of practice going to and from venues for different meetings and gatherings, gave Harry the ability to barely stumble as he left the fireplace.

In the marbled foyer he recognised Daphne immediately, the hazel-eyed girl looking mildly impatient as she waited for Harry to arrive; as well as Remus Lupin, the ex-Order member.

Daphne knew that Remus Lupin was an old family friend of the Potter clan, having met the man in the months after Harry’s escape from the Order of the Phoenix. She had also briefly met Sirius Black and Hermione Granger, when a visit of hers during the summer holidays had coincided with one of Harry’s meetings with his godfather and foster-sister.

Hermione was living with Sirius at number 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancestral home of the House of Black, while she completed her magical training at one of the centres that had been established under new laws Harry had legislated. She could have received accommodation in the centre itself, as most ex-serviles did, but Harry had insisted she live somewhere closer to the Citadel.

Sirius, perhaps eager to appease Harry and earn his trust and approval, had offered to accept Hermione as his ward and have her live with him. Hermione had been receptive to the idea, and so now whenever Harry visited his godfather he could also enjoy catching up with his foster-sister.

Things were not as tentative between Harry and Sirius as they had been when the young man had begun attending supervised visits, the older man’s easy-going nature and devilish sense of humour smoothing the way to a relationship. Nowadays the surveillance and restrictions on Sirius had slackened, at Harry’s request, and the Dark Lord trusted his younger lover when he claimed the pureblood man was no threat.  

Sirius had even relinquished a valuable tool in the form of a priceless and exceptionally rare Invisibility Cloak, that had once belonged to Harry’s father and had been in the Potter family for generations. He had gifted it to Harry for his seventeenth birthday, along with an intriguing map that showed him a detailed diagram of Hogwarts and everyone in it, as well as a photo album filled with pictures of his parents and their friends. Needless to say, it had been his favourite gift, aside from his lover’s surprise of an official proposal of marriage.

It was an informal agreement between them that they were to be wedded after Harry’s graduation in six months time, with only the press and the Dark Lord’s followers making a great deal out of the entire affair at this point in time.

However the gesture from the Dark Lord, to make the process more formal and traditional, was both welcome and heart-warming. He had not gotten down on one knee as Harry had perhaps half-expected, but had in the privacy of their chamber, the night after the celebrations for the future Consort’s birthday, presented him with the proposal and the promise-band.

Harry now bore the silver ring upon his finger, and had dipped into his own wealth as the Lord Potter to purchase a promise-band of his own for his lover. Whenever Harry caught sight of the flash of silver upon the Dark Lord’s hand, he felt a surge of pleasure that the powerful and brilliant man was _his_ , just as he was Lord Voldemort’s in return. 

‘Harry!’ Daphne called out, giving his arm a little shake to gain back his attention.

With a slightly bewildered smile on his face, thoughts still on his lover, Harry realised he had been standing in the hospital’s foyer staring off into the distance. Remus had an amused look on his face, his amber eyes tender as he gazed at his best friend’s son, but it was Daphne who huffed out, ‘I wish you and the Dark Lord would just hurry up and get married, so you can stop with the dramatic gazing into horizon and the Merlin-damned _pining!_ ’

Remus choked at the sight of the usually reserved pureblood girl acting so unrestrained, a crooked smile even evident on her face. They were tucked away in a relatively secluded corner of the foyer, and so there was no need for the girl to don her pureblood mask.

Harry laughed, moving closer to Daphne and hooking his arm through hers, leaning in to admit, ‘Daph I think we both know the pining won’t stop, even after I finally marry him. Especially if we’re separated by our duties like we are now.’

‘Harry you saw him yesterday evening,’ Daphne replied in a deadpan.

‘Exactly!’ Harry cried in mock-despair. ‘I have not seen him at all today, and I won’t see him until Wednesday when we meet for dinner!’

‘The woes of your life,’ Daphne drawled, and it reminded Harry so poignantly of Draco that a startled burst of laughter escaped from him.

Daphne smirked in return, increasing the resemblance even more so, before Remus coughed politely, fighting off a grin of his own as he reminded the pair that they did have a practical training session to complete.

After that he and Daphne were separated, each being assigned to a different supervising Healer. The person Harry was relegated to, a brown haired middle-aged woman named Healer Wright, did not bat an eye at Remus’ presence at Harry’s back, nor did she bow or scrape when she recognised Harry’s identity.

In short, Harry liked her immediately.

‘You’re in luck today, Mr Potter,’ she said, tossing a glance over her shoulder as she walked briskly through the busy corridors of the hospital. Remus and Harry were hurrying to keep up with the Healer’s fast pace. ‘For your practical training this afternoon you will be assisting me in the maternity ward.’

Harry’s eyes widened slightly and Healer Wright grinned in a distinctly shark-like manner. Remus inputted, slightly queasy, ‘We won’t be…in the actual labour rooms will we?’ There was a note of horrified desperation in his voice at the mere thought.

‘Well it would be worthwhile to give young Mr. Potter some hands-on experience with the wonders of birth now that you mention it,’ she murmured in a contemplative manner.

Remus looked like he was about to turn tail and run. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about this at all. Then Healer Wright shook her head, with a barely audible ‘ _Men_ ,’ under her breath and said more clearly, ‘Of course we won’t be in the labour rooms.’

Remus’ relief was palpable.

They turned a corner and found themselves in the ward dedicated to parents both expecting and recently having given birth. There were orderlies rushing to and forth, as well as visiting guests bearing gifts.

‘Well then let’s get started,’ Healer Wright said, the hustle of the ward ineffective in affecting her calm demeanour.

* * *

Three hours later Harry was meeting the other seventh year students in the foyer to return to school. Some looked inspired by their hands-on experience this afternoon, whilst others looked sickened, perhaps only realising now the types of situations Healers had to deal with. It wasn’t all success and happy endings, even with the incredible aid of magic.

Daphne had, had one of the more difficult assignments, working with her supervisor in the Creature-Induced-Injuries ward, and despite the challenge, she had found it worthwhile. As they waited for their turn to step into the fireplace and return to Hogwarts, Daphne spoke animatedly about how she had helped re-wrap the bandages on a patient who had been badly burned by a Blast-Ended-Skrewt.

When she had curiously asked where Harry had been assigned he had informed his friend that he had spent the past three hours in the maternity ward. Daphne’s face morphed into a frown and she muttered, ‘Thank Merlin I didn’t get that assignment. I detest babies.’

Harry blinked in surprise at this admittance and replied, ‘I had no idea.’ Then, thinking of Daphne’s status as the heiress of the Greengrass family and her duty to her family in providing an heir he asked as unobtrusively as possible, ‘What will you do when you need a successor?’

Daphne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and responded flippantly, ‘I do have a younger sister, you know. I am confident Astoria will be able to produce an heir to succeed me.’

‘But what of your future husband?’ Harry pressed, confused at Daphne’s dismissive attitude. He though purebloods took such matters seriously. ‘Won’t he desire an heir for his own fortune?’

‘I am sure Theo will not pressure me into bearing him an heir,’ she responded confidently. ‘Besides, he has an older male cousin who is already married with a baby on the way. He would be more than happy to continue the Nott family line.’

This brought yet another shock to Harry, and he lowered his voice even though they were at the back of the queue for the fireplace and Remus was hovering further away, his work nearly finished for the afternoon with Harry returning the safety of Hogwarts’ wards.

‘So it’s official? I didn’t know your parents had finalised a marriage contract with the Nott family.’ Within his question was a hint of hurt that Daphne had not even bothered to share this important information with him.

‘Theo and I signed the papers on Saturday,’ she admitted, her face suddenly blank. ‘We’re both now seventeen years old, and once we have graduated I am sure our wedding will be quick to follow. Who knows, maybe I will get married around the same time as you.’

Daphne’s attempt at her usual light-hearted banter fell terribly flat. Harry was shocked to see the hopeless anger in his friend’s eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. This was Daphne Greengrass, confident, strong and proud. Only a few hours earlier she had convinced him that she would get him ready for the Yule Ball, her strength of will inspiring Harry to keep trying. Yet right now she looked like a helpless child.  

‘You don’t want to marry him.’ There was no question in Harry’s voice. The answer was painfully clear.

Daphne closed her eyes momentarily, and when she opened them again she had gathered her pureblood mask and was straight-backed and firm once more.

‘Theodore has been my friend since we were little. Our betrothal contract has been in place for three years now. This is simply making official what I have known since I was fourteen,’ Daphne replied in a methodical voice, as though she were reasoning with herself as much as she was with Harry.

It became apparent then why Daphne had not told Harry about the finalising of her marriage contract. She was trying to deal with this on her own before it became public knowledge.

‘You don’t love him,’ Harry sighed.

‘Of course I don’t,’ Daphne muttered sharply. ‘I feel affection for him as my oldest friend, but not as one feels for a lover. Not like what you and the Dark Lord share.’

Harry was startled to hear the barely-disguised envy in Daphne’s voice and he was struck by how fortunate he was, being able to marry the person he wanted, by his own choice.

Before they could continue their conversation, Remus approached and said softly, ‘You should both hurry back; you don’t want to miss dinner.’

Looking at the now non-existent line of students, Daphne moved forward, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. After she had left for Hogwarts, Remus mentioned to Harry casually, ‘You both seemed like you were having a rather serious conversation. Anything I can help with?’

Harry smiled at the werewolf, and shook his head. ‘So, how long you are going to be in Britain for?’

It wasn’t a particularly eloquent change in conversation, but Remus took it in stride and said with a hint of bemusement in his voice, ‘The Dark Lord has invited me to attend the three day celebration at the Citadel. It seems that with my pack’s advancement to the largest in France, I am now a figure of note.’

Harry hid a wince at the reminder of the event coming up, and replied, ‘It also helps that you were one of the people to aid in my return to Britain after I was kidnapped. That gives you the Dark Lord’s favour. He posted you to guard me this afternoon did he not?’

Remus smiled and drew Harry into a hug before holding him back at arms length and asking, ‘Are you able to come visit Sirius and, of course, Hermione before the Yuletide period? I know both are eager to see you.’

Harry hadn’t had the opportunity to visit his godfather and foster sister for a couple of weeks due to other commitments as the future Dark Consort, and technically he shouldn’t be visiting them regardless, as the other students didn’t have the luxury of leaving the school on the weekends. Being the Dark Lord’s lover certainly did come with its benefits.

‘I will see if I can drop in this Saturday for a few hours,’ Harry promised.

‘Well then, I won’t keep you any longer,’ Remus said with a gentle smile and released his hold on Harry. The young man knew the werewolf needed these small opportunities of contact, to appease his inner wolf and reassure it that its pack member was well.

‘Will you be there on Saturday too?’ Harry questioned.

Remus spent a lot of time while he was in Britain, visiting Sirius and properly catching up with his old friend like he couldn’t when they were separated in different countries.

‘I will most likely come over,’ he agreed, before giving Harry a push in the direction of the fireplace. 

* * *

Arriving back in the classroom where he took his theoretical lessons in Healing, Harry said goodbye to Madame Pomfrey, who had waited for his return, and returned his medical kit to the cupboard in the corner.

As he left the classroom, he nearly ran into Luna, who was lingering in the doorway, the silver in her eyes highlighted by the glow of the setting sun from the window in the opposite wall of the corridor.

‘Luna,’ Harry grinned in greeting. ‘Were you waiting for me?’

‘Well I was actually waiting to see if I could catch sight of some Nargles – I spotted a nest in the corridor earlier this afternoon. Unfortunately it appears they have slipped away yet again.’ Her face was slightly despondent as she murmured this. Then she brightened as she said, ‘Meeting you here was a welcome pleasure, though.’

Harry shook his head in fond exasperation at Luna’s frank but warm demeanour, before offering to walk to dinner with her, because it was no doubt underway.

With his eccentric friend by his side, Harry made his way to the Great Hall, thoughts revolving around Daphne and her impossible situation, his experience at the hospital that afternoon and his lover. And of course the impending Yule Ball and his continued ineptitude at dancing.

Harry sensed the Dark Lord’s presence before he saw him with his eyes, coming to an abrupt halt as his lover strode around the corner, his presence commanding attention and respect.

The Horcrux within Harry stirred at the arrival of Lord Voldemort, but a year of practice and training allowed Harry to brush it back down with barely a thought in doing so. It was as much apart of him as it was the Dark Lord these days.

‘What has brought you to Hogwarts, my Lord?’ Harry asked, perhaps purring the title a little, just to see those crimson eyes darken with desire. Although his lover had informed Harry he only had to use a title in a formal setting, Harry tended to use it whenever he pleased.

‘I have some important news that could not wait for Wednesday,’ Lord Voldemort responded, moving forward to draw Harry to his chest. Nimble fingers stroked his hair from his forehead and the Dark Lord continued, ‘Let us retire to the ambassador’s suite and I will enlighten you on the situation.’

Harry turned to apologise to Luna for having to leave, but the girl had already slipped away, as silent as Nagini when she was hunting her prey.

‘After you have given me the news, you will stay, will you not?’ Harry asked, leaning up on his toes to brush his lips to the Dark Lord’s own. Their shared core trembled with intensity at their close proximity, and the Horcrux within Harry shivered, increasing the pleasure already thrumming through his veins.

‘Of course,’ the ruler of wizarding Britain responded, claiming his future Lord Consort’s lips in a searing kiss.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a great deal of deliberation, and after reading many of your comments I have decided to not add mpreg to this story. 
> 
> Obviously it would have been something not previously established in my story universe, and so I will be avoiding it. In terms of adoption and/or surrogacy I am still undecided. I don't want this particular story to become predominantly a kid fic. 
> 
> The good news is, in the future I will be writing different stories, even accepting requests from you if you're interested. And I am very open to mpreg, adoption and/or surrogacy fics! So once The Consort is finished I can look at branching out.
> 
> Drops of Nightshade x

**Chapter Two**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – The Citadel_

1997

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort had insisted on Harry eating first before receiving the news, ordering an assortment of food to be brought up to the ambassador suite by a house elf. Only when Harry had consumed his meal, and it had been cleaned away, did the Dark Lord place his glass of wine to the side and draw Harry to the comfortable chaise lounge.

‘What is the information that could not wait for our dinner meeting on Wednesday?’ Harry asked curiously, but not apprehensively. He would have been able to tell through their connection if the news was negative. Either their shared magical core or the Horcrux within Harry would have alerted him to his lover’s ire.

Without leaving him in suspense, a light of triumph in crimson eyes, the Dark Lord said, ‘It seems our agent has found a lead to the Order of the Phoenix.’

Harry’s eyes widened in shock, because even after a year of following tips and relentlessly searching, Tonks had been unsuccessful in locating the Order. They had gone underground completely, and not even a supposedly loyal member could find them.

Whenever the Metamorphmagus came back to Britain to report to the Dark Lord and visit her children, she had the same story to tell; none knew where the Order had disappeared.

To hear that she had finally found a proper lead, a whole year after she took an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to the Dark Lord and began searching was incredible.

Lord Voldemort, suddenly smirked and his red eyes flashed as he admitted, ‘In fact, one might say she found _two_ leads.’

Harry frowned slightly, tilting his head to one side as he observed his lover’s amusement, obviously missing out on an inside joke. He wished he were able to read the Dark Lord’s thoughts, as Nagini could, but he was still learning to utilise the emphatic connection the Horcrux gave him. Furthermore, although having finally learnt the art of Occulemency from the combined teachings of Remus and Sirius, his Legilimency was still weak.

‘The last place our agent was looking was in Russia, and whilst she was following a tip in Saint Petersburg she came across two interesting individuals, who had recently been in contact with the Order.’

‘What did they have to say?’ Harry asked eagerly.

‘They claimed to have abandoned the Order, and were able to lead Tonks to the last place the Order had been hiding, in Saint Petersburg itself.’

‘So she’s finally found them?’ Harry questioned, triumph beginning to burn within him.

‘Not quite,’ the Dark Lord responded quickly before he allowed his lover’s hopes to rise. ‘They were gone by the time she arrived, but there were clear signs they had been there. And the two leads seemed to have a good idea of where they had moved. Apparently the next location they were going to be hiding in was further north. Tonks has already proceeded to explore the region.’

It was disappointing that Tonks had not found them in time, but what was undeniably heartening was the potential for their agent to find the Order if she searched the region thoroughly enough.

‘What about the two leads? Have they accompanied her? Who are they?’ Harry was mildly concerned at how trustworthy these two individuals were. It would be too easy for the Order to plant false informants to shake off their pursuers.

‘I have requested they be shifted to Britain for furthering questioning and they are due to arrive tomorrow morning and be transported to the Citadel. As for their identities… well I believe you are familiar with them.’

‘What…?’ Harry began to question, before his body went taut with disbelief and a tentative hope. He was unwilling to voice his thoughts, for fear they were wrong.

‘Their identities are Fred and George Weasley,’ his lover said almost softly, crimson eyes warming as he saw the change come over Harry.

An incredulously happy smile broke over Harry’s face and he asked, ‘They ran away? They helped point Tonks in the right direction? And now…they’re coming home.’

‘In fact, I believe these two were particularly vocal in their damnation of the Order according to Tonks’ report. And if what they speak is true, they are not the only members of your foster family that are having second thoughts about the Order.’

Harry’s breath caught, the idea that his adoptive family might still be brought home and their crimes forgiven, lifting a weight from his shoulders that he had been carrying for the past year.

‘What time are they arriving? When can I see them?’ Harry implored almost breathlessly, his desire to see his two prankster foster-brothers overwhelming. Hermione would also need to be notified, they should see them together.

‘The Portkey Tonks gave them should activate to bring them to Britain around dawn in our time. They will be arriving in a prepared Ministry room to be briefly questioned with Veritaserum to ensure their loyalty and integrity before being released.’

‘Can I get permission to meet them once they have been affirmed?’ Harry asked, not a doubt in his mind that the twins would pass the testing. It could just be wishful thinking, but Harry’s gut instinct was telling him his two foster-brothers could be trusted. They had always been his staunchest supporters after Hermione.

‘I wouldn’t even contemplate denying you,’ Lord Voldemort promised sincerely.

Joy blossoming in him, Harry pressed himself to his lover, moving so that he was straddling the Dark Lord’s body. He twined his hands with the man’s own, eyes catching the glint of silver on the man’s left hand.

Pressing a soft kiss to the cool metal of the promise-band, Harry lifted his emerald eyes to find ruby ones staring down at him breathtaking intensity. Moving his body, Harry now trailed his lips up the Dark Lord’s throat, relishing in the power and trust the man gave him by baring his vulnerable skin.

Placing open-mouth kisses upon the pale column of flesh presented to him, Harry murmured under his breath, ‘I wish we could marry tonight.’

A small exhale of sound left the Dark Lord’s lips, his control slipping as Harry continued to lavish his neck with attention and speak seductively on the edge of his hearing.

‘We would have a private ceremony, just an official, our vows and us. And we would finally belong to each other in every possible way.’

Harry’s hips began to undulate slowly, coaxing a response beneath him as his lips moved to a spot behind his lover’s ear, sensitive and erogenous. His breath brushed against the man’s ear as he whispered, ‘We would make love tonight, as husbands, as partners.’

That elicited a groan of pleasure from the Dark Lord, the combination of the teasing movement of Harry’s hips, his lips upon his ear and the whispered promises driving him to release a noise against his will.

‘You have been pushing my restraints ever since I proposed to you. If you are not careful, we may very well end up marrying before you graduate,’ the Dark Lord warned, his body moving in synch with his future Consort’s.

‘What would be wrong with that?’ Harry asked silkily, boring his green eyes into Lord Voldemort’s crimson ones. ‘ ** _I’m ready_**.’

The tantalising hiss of Parseltongue coming from Harry’s lips was enough to break the last shred of control the Dark Lord possessed. With sheer strength of will he said firmly, ‘ ** _I know deep down you do not want to be wedded in haste on a spur of the moment decision.’_** Harry shivered at the sound of the snake language flowing from his lover’s lips. ‘ ** _However you have pushed me too far to resist ravishing you tonight.’_**

Harry’s face was triumphant as the Dark Lord gathered him in his arms and bent the anti-Apparition ward around Hogwarts to transfer them to the bedroom in a heart-beat.

‘ ** _Lazy_** ,’ Harry reprimanded in mock condemnation as he was pushed to the bed.

‘ ** _You think me lazy?_** ’ the ruler of wizarding Britain challenged with a predatory look on his features.

‘ ** _I know you are_** ,’ Harry opposed, delight apparent as he saw the gleam in his lover’s eyes.

‘ ** _I am afraid you are going to regret saying that, my love,_** ’ was the sensual response, before Harry found himself pressed to the bed.

With a flicker of magic, the Dark Lord produced silken bonds, which gently wrapped around Harry’s arms, pulling them to the head of the bed and securing him in place. His legs were likewise bound, to the bottom of the bed, stretching Harry out for the taking.

_‘ **Unfortunately you will only be able to find pleasure with my permission,** ’_ the Dark Lord purred, watching as Harry tugged playfully on his restraints. Both knew that Harry would be able to free himself with a slightest nudge of magic, but they could still pretend **.** _‘ **And I am not feeling particularly giving tonight.** ’_

Harry’s eyes darkened with lust at that, and he asked in a small voice that went straight to his lover’s cock, ‘ ** _But what if I beg?_** **_I know you love it when I beg.’_**

Holding back a groan the Dark Lord murmured, ‘ ** _We’ll see how prettily you beg for it later perhaps.’_**

Ignoring Harry’s pout, which drew attention to the pink glisten of his lips, the Dark Lord vanished the younger man’s clothes, leaving his delectable body bare. A small gasp left Harry’s mouth as his skin was exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, his skin pebbling in response.

Wasting no time, Lord Voldemort began his thorough and slow trek across the planes of Harry’s body, lips and fingers drawing beautiful sounds of ecstasy from his younger lover, like a master musician coaxes a melody from his instrument.

When he trailed a finger up Harry’s erect manhood, which had been pleading for attention, the emerald-eyed teen _moaned_ like he hadn’t been touched in years. Absently rubbing the tip, which leaked with pre-cum, the Dark Lord carelessly moved on, using his now slicked fingers to draw a circle around Harry’s entrance.

Just as the young man bucked his hips and spread his legs for him as far as his restraints allowed, Lord Voldemort had already moved his fingers along, now smoothing his palms up his lover’s flanks.

**‘ _Please,’_** Harry begged shakily, eyes half-lidded with arousal, his body quivering with pure want.

‘ ** _You’ll have to do better than that to convince me to alleviate your punishment_** ,’ The Dark Lord hissed domineeringly, even as he subtly shifted within his clothes, his tailored trousers painfully tight.

Oh, and Harry did rise to meet his challenge.

The noises alone he made were almost enough to bring the Dark Lord to completion, the way his body writhed on the bed under his ministrations, hands pulling and twisting the restraints that bound him, one of the most erotic sights he had witnessed.

Small, almost broken whines left his lips, whenever Lord Voldemort traced his fingers across his demanding cock, always teasing but never fulfilling. Harry was gorgeous in the throes of his desire, and the Dark Lord was reminded that this sight, this young man, was _his._

With a growl the Lord Voldemort hungrily claimed Harry’s lips, plunging his tongue within the other’s mouth to battle with him for dominance. Harry met him with virulent passion, bringing them together with a clash of teeth and tongues. It was wild and lacking tenderness, but the Dark Lord made up for it by stroking Harry’s hips with the utmost gentleness.

The contrast between the soft touching and their lustful merging of lips against one another was incredible. When Lord Voldemort eventually pulled away, neither had won nor lost, each rising to meet the challenge of the other.

‘ ** _I want you to make love to me_** ,’ Harry panted once his swollen lips were free. ‘ ** _I want your cock inside of me, claiming me. And when I cum, I want to do it over you, claiming you in return._** ’

At that moment the Dark Lord wanted nothing more than to obey Harry’s breathless commands. But they were still playing their little game. With a superior smirk on his face Lord Voldemort reminded his lover, ‘ ** _Ah, but you will have to ask for permission to receive any pleasure. Do not forget who is tied up in this situation, my love.’_**

Harry actually snarled at that, emerald eyes flashing with power as the restraints upon him dissolved into wisps of insubstantial smoke. Legs curling around his lover’s hips, arms twining around his neck and shoulders, Harry demanded, **_‘Fuck me,’_** as he pressed himself against the Dark Lord. He then added, with a note of sarcasm, ‘ ** _Please.’_**

Lord Voldemort knew that he could make Harry wait longer, perhaps punish him for interrupting their game and removing his restraints, but he knew he couldn’t hold back, not now with Harry pressing against him, arching with all-consuming need.

It should concern him, having another person wield such power over him, but this was his bond-mate, a bearer of a portion of his soul no less. Harry loved him with all his heart; he knew it because he expressed it in return, their mutual feelings reverberating through their connection whenever they locked eyes across a room, brushed against one another or made love.

Harry had given him an invaluable gift in the ability to experience emotions beyond the small arsenal that he had felt for the majority of his long life. Although it had been disconcerting and at times unwelcome the feelings inspired in him, especially those such as regret and guilt, they aided in grounding him.

There was no doubt in the Dark Lord’s mind that he would have eventually slipped into insanity over the duration of his immortal life without these human emotions tying him to reality.

A life that Harry would now share with him.

Joining their magical cores had granted Harry the guarantee of a longevity that was not eternal, but would enable him a lengthy existence. The Dark Lord had, had vague plans in mind to extend this to the immortality he himself enjoyed, but his younger lover had discovered his diary Horcrux and been selected by it as a new host before anything came to fruition.

Like Nagini, Harry would share his eternal youth, outliving any others that they currently knew. For Lord Voldemort only Harry held vital importance in his eyes, but he acknowledged that it was a different situation for the young man. He had family and friends, people whom he would hesitate to live on without.

When Harry had found out about his immortality last year he had been understandably upset, but with this sadness came an understanding that whilst there would come a time in the future when he would have to say farewell to those he cared for, he would always have his lover by his side. He would never be alone.

Immortality was not so daunting with an eternal companion by one’s side.

‘Are you seriously ignoring me in the middle of sex?’ Harry’s incredulous voice broke through the haze of his contemplative thoughts, slipping out of Parseltongue. The young man was lying flushed and waiting beneath him, indignant puzzlement written across his face at his lover’s absent-minded behaviour.

‘Forgive me,’ the Dark Lord murmured, following Harry back into human speech. ‘There were some heavy thoughts on my mind.’

A soft look came across Harry’s face, and ignoring his own desire he unwrapped his legs from Lord Voldemort’s waist and came into a kneeling position, arms still secure around his lover’s neck.

‘Would you like to talk about it, Tom?’ Harry asked, fingers stroking the hair on the nape of the Dark Lord’s neck. Harry did not often call him by his Muggle name, knowing the lingering resentment that came with it. However he did use it sparingly in their intimate moments, to provide an anchor to the man’s true identity and his human side.

‘I was contemplating our immortality,’ he admitted freely, seeing no reason to hide his musings from his lover.

Harry stiffened slightly, emerald eyes tightening the tiniest fraction, the only signs that the topic was still a sore matter.

‘You know I have accepted it,’ Harry murmured defensively.

‘And you know I have expressed my regret that you did not have a choice,’ the Dark Lord responded.

‘But it would have been inevitable, would it not have been? Even without the Horcrux’s intervention, at some point in the near future you would have had to have found a way to make me immortal, to preserve yourself,’ Harry pointed out emotionlessly.

With a sense of resignation Lord Voldemort wandlessly and wordlessly summoned loose robes for them both. This was not a conversation to be had unclothed with the evidence of passion still written across their bodies.

While Harry stiffly shrugged his on, the Dark Lord moved calmly to the chair beside the bed, claiming the position as he tightened the sash on the material hiding the planes of his chest from view.

‘I will not lie to you Harry. You know as well as I do that I would have searched for a way to make you immortal.’ Harry made no comment on this affirmation, his face blank of emotion. Their connection was shielded on Harry’s side, both through their shared core and the Horcrux link. ‘But I would have discussed it with you, even compromised for longevity rather than the totality of immortality.’

The sincerity in the Dark Lord’s voice caused Harry’s mask to crack a little, sad but accepting emerald eyes gazing at him knowingly.

‘I believe you truly would have done that for me. I suppose I just needed to hear it.’ A tentative smile broke over Harry’s face, and he bravely outstretched his hand to his older lover, sitting not far away.

‘We were meant to be celebrating, before things became so serious…I’m not sure if I feel up to continuing where we left off, but maybe…’

Harry trailed off, outstretched hand drooping a little with his uncertainty. Almost immediately the Dark Lord grasped the young man’s hand, moving to the bed and crowding Harry to the other side. Without any verbalisation of words required, he knew what Harry wanted, what the younger man needed.

Pulling aside the covers of the bed, Lord Voldemort pressed up against Harry’s back, his presence warm but not demanding. After tucking the expensive sheets around Harry’s form, the Dark Lord proceeded to wrap his arms around his lover’s body.

Face pressed into the crook of Harry’s neck, taking in the subtle scent of apples that seemed to cover the emerald-eyed man, Lord Voldemort brushed his lips against Harry’s ear and asked, ‘How is this?’

Harry sighed; melting back into the embrace offered to him, the last of the barrier between them that Harry himself had erected dissolving away.

The soft glow of Harry’s emotions was the only response the Dark Lord needed.

* * *

 

The next morning found Harry all but vibrating with anticipation, the arrival of his foster-brothers drawing ever closer.

The two pranksters had arrived by Portkey at the Ministry and had been taken in briefly for questioning. Another Portkey was scheduled to bring them to a receiving room in the Citadel, where Harry would be seeing them, for the first time in over a year. Harry’s lover was currently overseeing the twins’ interview, and the only reason Harry himself was not also present was due to the conflict of interest.

Lord Voldemort had been gone before Harry awoke in the morning, but Harry was long used to his lover’s erratic comings and goings. The severing of his soul had granted him many unique concessions, such as no need for sleep, and this made his daily movements unpredictable.

With permission already granted for Harry to miss the first two classes of the day, he had all but wolfed his breakfast down before taking the Portkey the Dark Lord had provided him with; a raven’s feather.

Now pacing the simple receiving room in which the twins would shortly be arriving, Harry cast the occasional _tempus_ to monitor the time.

Any minute now.

A crack of a Portkey arriving had Harry’s body tensing in anticipation, only to see the familiar figure of Hermione. Harry had ensured his foster-sister had been informed of the situation and had a means to travel to the Citadel to receive Fred and George with him.

Her face reflected every ounce of the tension Harry knew his own to reveal, and as she wordlessly took Harry’s hand and pressed up against his side he knew that like him, she was too nervous to converse.

Together they both waited, almost breathless in their expectation.

Finally, after an agonising wait, the room was filled with the crack of another Portkey, depositing Lord Voldemort and two other figures into the room.

Fred and George Weasley at the age of nineteen were tall and pale, their bright red hair standing out starkly against the plain white walls of the receiving room.

They were also the most wonderful sight Harry had seen in a long time.

He knew the moment the twins spotted he and Hermione; the stillness of their usually expressive bodies as blatant as the colour of their hair. There was a strange moment of gravity in the room as though neither of the two parties could decide how to approach the other. The Dark Lord’s crimson eyes watched on, ready to intervene at any moment should his lover become emotionally overwhelmed.

Yet Harry’s strength was undeniable, and none knew that better than Lord Voldemort.

With surety in his steps Harry approached the twins, pulling along Hermione with their clasped hands.

‘We’ve missed you both so much,’ was all he said, tears welling in his eyes but held off through sheer strength of will.

And just like that the tension in the room was broken, Fred and George moving as though they shared a mind, gathering both Hermione and Harry into a tangled embrace. Hermione began to cry openly, but there was a blinding smile on her face as she shared in the hug.

Harry sensed the moment his lover slipped from the room, and he sent a surge of affectionate appreciation toward him through their bond. The echo in response warmed him from the inside out.

Scrubbing at his eyes Harry pulled away a little to properly see the twin’s faces. They still looked exactly as he remembered; freckles decorating their warm faces and blue eyes glittering with a hint of mischief. Yet there was a weariness there too, new burdens that had left a shadowed imprint.

‘What happened?’ Harry found himself asking, hating that he was breaking the joy of their reunion but unable to wait.

Fred’s face twisted as though he was physically pained by the question and George looked away even as he continued to stroke Hermione’s hair.

Harry looked between the two, waiting for one of them to speak. Hermione also observed silently, twisting her head upwards so she could see their faces even as she was pressed tightly to George.

Glancing at each other and seeming to communicate telepathically the twins came to some sort of an agreement. It was Fred who finally spoke, voice husky from unshed tears. ‘After you both escaped, we made our choice to remain with the Order.’

George continued when he stopped, voice growing stronger and angrier as he spoke. ‘You have to understand, the Dark Lord’s laws destroyed so many people’s lives.’

Harry nodded, not even attempting to defend his lover on that front. Tom had shown true remorse for his decisions, and had allowed Harry to restore balance and justice to wizarding Britain. It was enough for Harry to accept and forgive his lover, but not for many who had suffered.

‘It was easy for us to stay with mum and dad and the others, and to support McGonagall and the Order’s mission,’ Fred added. ‘It felt like the right thing to do. The Dark Lord was offering clemency for serviles returning to Britain but most of the Order were convinced it was a trick of some sort.’

Harry couldn’t blame them for that assumption; after so many years of the hierarchy it was near impossible to believe it was to be torn down in the span of a month, at the orders of an ex-Courtesan of all people.

‘But then time was passing and the reports coming in were all saying the same thing; the servile system was gone,’ George murmured. ‘Some wanted to leave. They changed their minds and were ready to return to Britain.’

Here both of the twins paused in their story, faces darkening as they prepared for the next part of the tale. Harry and Hermione continued to listen without interrupting, open and accepting of what was being shared with them.

‘No one thought anything of the first few people disappearing. They always reappeared after a few days, claiming to have been sent on an Order mission. But they were different. Changed. There was no more talk of returning to Britain. In fact, even the mention of returning would trigger them into anger.’

Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he listened, a vaguely horrified awareness lingering at he edge of his mind as he began contemplating what the Order may have been doing.

‘Fred and I began snooping around,’ George said, a wry smile on his face that quickly faded. ‘And we discovered what they were doing. There’s this mind healer you see, a man called Cordell.’

And Harry knew. Because he remembered that name vividly, the name of the man who had ravaged his mind searching for some hint of a spell that the Dark Lord had apparently put on Harry to control him. He was the one who had uncovered his shared magical core with Lord Voldemort and had released that information to Moody, Shacklebolt and McGonagall.

Moody was dead, killed by Nagini, but Shacklebolt and McGonagall were still very much alive. He had obliviated both Cordell and Shacklebolt, but not McGonagall.

She, and everyone she had told, remained a risk to both Harry’s safety and the Dark Lord’s.

The twins seemed to realise Harry had worked out what Cordell had been doing, seeing the grim look on his face and the helpless fury emanating from him.

‘He was altering people’s minds. It’s the height of unethical magical conduct yet the Order has sunk to that level,’ Fred muttered. ‘Worst of all, McGonagall and Shacklebolt knew and were doing nothing to stop it. They were so desperate to keep their precious Order together that they were allowing their pet healer to rape their followers’ minds and keep them under their control.’

Hermione was trembling in shock and revulsion at the information, but gathered the courage to voice the question that Harry could not bring himself to ask.

‘The others…Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron, Ginny…everyone…did Cordell…?’ Hermione trailed off, eyes desperate.

Fred and George’s faces reflected their answer.

‘Oh Merlin,’ Hermione whispered.

‘We got away,’ George said blankly. ‘Ended up running into Tonks and guided her back to where they last were. But they were already gone.’

Silence descended on the room once more. Their family were being dragged along with the Order’s schemes, against their wills, along with countless others. But they didn’t even know it.

Harry thought of Lavender, who had suffered as a Courtesan, as so many had suffered. She continued to be taken advantage of, this time to be violated at her very core, her will taken from her.

‘The Dark Lord is going to find them,’ he promised in a steely voice. ‘Tonks is closing in on them. And there will be a retribution.’

Hermione and the twins looked at Harry, remembering the mild young boy they knew from the past. This new Harry was still sweet and loving, with a heart so big he could move even the Dark Lord himself. But there was now an icy darkness to the green-eyed man before them, something predatory and terrifying that lingered under the beautiful surface.

It did not bode well for those who crossed him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – Diagon Alley – The Citadel_

1997

* * *

 

Harry had spent the rest of that day away from school in order to reconnect with the twins, and organise accommodation for them. When he returned to Hogwarts the following morning he was immediately pounced on by Daphne and Draco.

Whilst it was an occasional occurrence for Harry to disappear for a few class periods every other week, it was rare for him to be gone for an entire day. Seeing Daphne and Draco’s expectant and curious faces waiting for him in the seventh year common room, Harry sighed and raised an eyebrow at their blatant hovering.

Looking entirely unrepentant the two blonde-haired purebloods dragged Harry over to a couch tucked away in the corner and as Draco cast a privacy ward Daphne asked, ‘Where were you yesterday?’

‘It’s a long story,’ Harry began, deflecting the question.

Both Daphne and Draco gave him equally unimpressed looks.

‘Fine,’ he said in an exasperated manner. He was hungry, and wanted nothing more than to go to breakfast. ‘Two of my foster brothers, the twins – Fred and George – returned to Britain yesterday morning.’

‘Harry,’ Daphne breathed, taking his hands in hers. The blonde’s hazel eyes were tender as she searched his face for any grief or hurt. It was a well-known fact that execution awaited captured Order members.   

Draco was very still from where he stood. His face was blank but Harry could see the concern hidden beneath his stony exterior.

‘It’s okay,’ Harry rushed to assure his friends. ‘They actually turned themselves in and have actively aided in the search for the Order. The Dark Lord has given them clemency.’

The relaxation of both Daphne and Draco was palpable, the tension easing from their bodies.

‘So they’re here to stay?’ Daphne asked with a warm smile.

‘Yes, my godfather Sirius has offered them rooms at Grimmauld Place. They’re happy to be staying with Hermione. She is taking them to get wands today from Ollivander’s,’ Harry responded. He was a little bit disappointed he couldn’t join them for such a momentous occasion, but he had already missed an entire day of school. Furthermore the Dark Lord would have insisted he taken a protection detail.

‘Sirius is picking up more strays it seems,’ Draco quipped.

‘He’s quite determined to prove himself an able caretaker to me,’ Harry replied.

‘Is he still wanting you to come live with him?’ Daphne asked tentatively.

Sirius had made his wishes known shortly after Harry had returned from his kidnapping, eager to step into his role as godfather and guardian. But Harry was content living with his lover at the Citadel during the school holidays.

‘He knows where my preferences lie,’ Harry responded carefully. ‘And he’s grateful I’ve let him into my life.’

There was a short silence that was broken when Draco asked, ‘Will he be attending the Yuletide celebrations? And Hermione and the twins of course?’

‘Sirius couldn’t be dragged to a pureblood event if you threatened to set his hair on fire. I’ll visit Grimmauld Place after Yuletide.’ Harry was both amused and in awe of the lengths his godfather would go to avoid the pureblood social scene.

‘Speaking of the Yuletide celebrations…’ Daphne hinted, face mischievous.

Harry groaned, sinking back into the cushions, and grabbing one to cover his face.

‘We have a free period this afternoon,’ Draco pointed out traitorously.

‘Excellent!’ Daphne said as she grinned in a shark-like manner. ‘We’ll meet in the same classroom as last time and continue practicing.’

‘I hate you both,’ came Harry’s muffled response.

* * *

 

Hermione and the twins walked down Diagon Alley, going at a slower pace so as to allow the two redheaded young men time to take in the sights. Hermione couldn’t hold back a grin at their wide-eyed expressions.

Britain’s famous wizarding shopping area had become even more busy and vibrant than usual over the past few months with the increasing presence of ex-serviles. Freed from their contracts, Menials, Birthers and Courtesans alike had access to Ministry support grants, based on the years they had served. Armed with money, and provided with accommodation and magical schooling at the centres Harry had established, the men and women once at the bottom of the social hierarchy could now have a real impact.

Just recently Hermione read in the Daily Prophet that an ex-Menial had opened an ice-cream parlour in the Alley that was now experiencing booming business. Others of the servile caste were entering the work force, providing much-needed assistance to the flagging economy.

Hermione viewed all of the changes with a fierce pride for her foster brother and also a powerful hope for her own future. She was studying magical theory of course at a nearby centre but she was also taking political and legal studies. Hermione had a strong ambition to pursue a career at the Ministry once she graduated in a few years times. She would be behind others of the same age whom had been privileged enough to receive an education at Hogwarts, but she was confident and determined to catch up.

She hadn’t yet shared her dream with Harry; not because she didn’t trust her foster brother but because she knew already how busy and preoccupied he was with his own schooling and his duties as the future Lord Consort.

But she had surprised herself with sharing her goals with Sirius Black. He was surprisingly easy to open up to, and after she had told him of her plans he had responded by showing her the obscure section in the Black family library where there was a whole catalogue of books dedicated to wizarding politics.

Most of her spare time was now filled with reading dry tomes on statutory law and picking apart old government records written down by one of the Black ancestors whom had been the Minister for Magic.

Yet she still enjoyed having breaks like these, leaving Grimmauld Place and relishing in the simple joy of having the freedom to go wherever she wanted. Glancing at the twins she knew they too must feel the same.

‘We turn left here to go to Ollivander’s,’ she called out to the twins over the noise of the bustling main street.

They acknowledged her statement in a distracted fashion, heads continuing to turn in all directions to capture anything and everything that was on offer. Luckily they still had enough sense to follow their foster sister as she turned off down a slightly quieter street in search of the wand shop.

The trio wandered down the cobbled street, blending in seamlessly with the crowd around them. Hermione thought it was a unique experience of its own to be seen as normal, to not have people fixate on the collar around her neck and judge her for her status.

In this mass of people there was no way to differentiate between the muggleborns, the half bloods and the purebloods.

Arriving outside of Olivander’s Hermione grabbed the twins’ attention as she said, ‘Just a warning before we go in. Mr Ollivander is very good at what he does, but he can be a bit…eccentric.’

‘How so?’ both twins delivered simultaneously. It was strange how they were always able to do that.

‘You’ll see,’ Hermione replied ambiguously, pushing open the door to the shop and causing a bell to chime somewhere further in behind crowded, twisting shelves.

They waited for about a minute in the bare space of the foyer, the twins eyeing the wands in sight with keen interest.

Eventually Ollivander appeared as silent as a ghost, giving Hermione a bit of a shock when he seemed to melt from the shadows between two shelves.

‘Welcome back Ms Granger, you’ve brought two new customers for me I see?’ he asked in that wispy voice of his, shockingly blue eyes pinning her as he spoke.

‘Y-yes,’ Hermione responded, hating it when her voice cracked a little. Something about the man was distinctly unnatural.

Fred and George shared a look between them when Ollivander approached, flicking his wand to summon a tape measure, which quivered at the ready.

‘Two Weasley’s I believe? Yes I still remember the day your mother and your father walked into this very shop to get their own first wands. But of course they would no longer have those wands…such a waste…,’ Ollivander murmured sadly.

The twins had gone stock still at the mention of their parents, listening to the man with rapt attention.

‘Well!’ he said suddenly, causing the other three occupants of the room to startle. ‘Let the past remain the past. We have two wizards here to find suitable wands for!’

He smiled widely, and received three bemused ones in return.

* * *

 

Harry succeeded in completing a whole waltz sequence correctly with Daphne that afternoon, but his triumph was short-lived as the minute he changed partners to Draco he managed to trip up. It seemed the shift from the leader to the follower in the dance routine had thrown Harry’s capabilities.

‘We’ve run out of time,’ Daphne said, after casting a _tempus._

Harry sighed from his position on the floor, nursing a developing bruise on his arm, sustained after he tripped over his own feet. Draco too was dealing with aches of his own - on his feet from Harry’s clumsy movements.

‘Two days to go until the end of the semester,’ Harry noted bleakly.

‘You’re doing much better,’ Daphne was quick to assure him. ‘You did it right with me didn’t you? Just a little more work with Draco and you’ll be the perfect dance partner.’

Both Harry and Draco have her incredulous looks.

‘Okay maybe not a _perfect_ dance partner,’ she amended. ‘But at least you’ll be passable.’

‘Passable,’ Harry echoed mournfully.

‘Passable is enough,’ Draco inputted. ‘As long as you speak well on the night and get a chance to win some people over, I doubt anyone will care how you look on the dance floor.’

Feeling bolstered by Draco’s words, Harry got to his feet and brushed himself off.

‘Come on, we have a Duelling class in five minutes.’

After a short walk up Hogwarts’ twisting staircases the trio arrived at the designated classroom. The other students were gathered outside, Daphne’s attention quickly being seized by Millicent Bulstrode who had been standing uncomfortably in conversation with Pansy Parkinson. 

Harry and Draco wandered over to Blaise and Theo who were discussing the homework set from the last class. Harry couldn’t help but notice Theo’s eyes drifting over to Daphne, as though drawn against his will. There was a longing in his wandering eyes, and a sad tilt to his mouth as he gave Blaise half his attention, the other half fixated upon Daphne.

Betrothals were a reality for most purebloods, and despite progression toward a more modern society, it was still seen as an important process to unite family houses and to produce the most desirable heirs.

Even Draco was betrothed, to Daphne’s younger sister, Astoria. The pretty, if slightly dull, girl was in the fifth year and so any chance of marriage was a way off yet. It was strange to think that Draco might have been betrothed to Daphne, had the Nott and Greengrass families not already made an agreement beforehand.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the situation presented to him. Daphne didn’t love Theo. It was unclear where Theo stood on the matter. They were inevitably going to end up married, but it would be an unhappy union considering Daphne’s feelings on the matter.

Harry’s whirling thoughts were halted at the arrival of Rabastan Lestrange.

After the discovery that he had knowingly harboured Tonks, an Order agent, Rabastan had known there would be some punishment to bear. He had been permitted to continue his teaching position at Hogwarts, and to maintain his lands and titles.

However he had been suspended from the Inner Circle, until such a time that the Dark Lord was convinced of his unwavering loyalty once more. It had been incredibly difficult for Rabastan to step down, facing derision from his fellow Death Eaters and the shame of demotion.

But the Dark Lord had been merciful, the punishment mild in comparison to what it could have been.

Since the reduction of his power Rabastan had been placed in charge of Citadel security, a relatively straightforward job that also allowed him to gain back his Lord’s trust. He was doing excellently in the position, and had been for nearly a year. Harry suspected his lover would soon be promoting Rabastan, perhaps after the Yuletide break.

Gazing at his ex-contractor Harry noted a healthier look about him and deduced he had been informed of Tonks’ success in finding a solid lead to the Order. Where previously there had been dark shadows under equally dark blue eyes and a pallid look to his skin, Rabastan now seemed to glow with cautious good spirits.

As the students filed in and the class began Harry caught Rabastan’s gaze. He offered the older man a small smile, sharing in the hope for positive change. A smile was given in return, the softening of Rabastan’s demeanour reminding Harry of the affection his short-time contractor still held for him. It was the easy affection of desire worn down into the acceptance of a platonic relationship.

Harry truly hoped he would find a position by the Dark Lord’s side once more.

* * *

 

That night after eating dinner in the Great Hall with the other students, Harry made his way to the Headmaster’s office. He was scheduled to have dinner with his lover that night in their rooms at the Citadel, and was to travel via the private Floo system.

Their private dinners were a weekly occurrence, a chance to reconnect in a casual setting without the pressure of the press or other prying eyes. More often than not Harry stayed longer after the dinner to indulge in sex. One or two times he had even fallen asleep and had to rush back to school the next morning to be there at his first class.

Daphne and Draco would always give him identical knowing smirks on those particular mornings.

Knocking on Snape’s door Harry waited impatiently as the man took his time to answer. Power games were a favourite past time of the onyx-eyed man, and he delighted in making his Lord’s lover wait outside in the stairwell for as long as he pleased.

Despite the man’s abrasiveness, his disrespect and the unpleasant childhood memories Harry retained from him, he never once doubted Snape’s devotion to the Dark Lord. A harsh man, yes, but a disloyal one? Never.

It was for that reason that Harry tolerated the Inner Circle Death Eater. It also helped that he knew of Snape’s entangled past with his parents. James Potter had bullied and ridiculed him alongside Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. And his mother Lily had been the Potion Master’s friend, until they had come into conflict with one another.

The information had come to him through his shared magical core with Lord Voldemort, the man of course knowing the weaknesses of his closest followers. And Lily Potter nee Evans had been, and continued to be a weakness of Severus Snape. It was clear to see in the way Snape’s harsh stare sometimes faltered when Harry pinned him with his mother’s eyes.

Eventually there was an imperious, ‘Enter,’ from within the room and the door swung ponderously open.

Rolling his eyes discreetly, Harry entered the Headmaster’s office, offering Snape a cool nod as he made his way to the fireplace. Snape was brooding behind the desk, a book on Dark magic in his hands and a heavy scowl in place.

Charming as ever.

Harry scooped up a handful of Floo powder, ducked into the chimney space and said clearly, ‘The Dark Lord’s suite, the Citadel.’

He was sucked away in a swirl of green smoke, other chimneys flying past as he was whisked closer and closer toward his destination. His magical signature would ensure he was accepted into Lord Voldemort’s private rooms.

Harry caught himself as he was violently spat out, quickly regaining his balance with the ease of practice. Patting himself down on the hearth to rid himself of errant soot Harry glanced around the sitting room he had entered to spot his lover.

However his eyes and the impression he got from his connection to the Dark Lord revealed whilst he was in the Citadel, his lover was not directly nearby. Deciding to make himself comfortable Harry lit the fireplace he had entered through, casting a warm glow throughout the room. Glancing through the open doorway to the dining room he was pleased to see the table set and awaiting their meal.

Returning to the sitting area Harry all but fell down on the couch positioned in the front of the fire. He had, had an emotionally charged day followed by a long day of school and he was entirely exhausted.

At the back of his mind he was aware he should stay awake to wait for Lord Voldemort to arrive but as he relaxed deeper into the couch he couldn’t remember why it was so important he remained conscious.

Later, when the fire had sputtered out leaving only glowing coals, did the Dark Lord enter the private suite. He had been caught up in a meeting discussing the final preparations for the Yuletide celebration, and as he finally reached his rooms he was looking forward to taking his fiancé into his arms and perhaps indulging in some long-overdue activities. Instead when he arrived he found his younger lover fast asleep on the couch.

The faint light from the fireplace made his face seem to glow, a soft innocence about his face in the grip of sleep. Lord Voldemort found himself unwilling to disturb his sweet lover’s rest, instead summoning a blanket from the master bedroom. With tenderness he showed only to his fiancé, the Dark Lord tucked the blanket around Harry’s body.

The young man stirred slightly, as though almost returning to consciousness before settling down again. Pressing a kiss to those slack lips, Lord Voldemort regretfully pulled away, faced with a long night alone with his paperwork.

* * *

 

When Harry awoke the next morning, he could not remember where he was for a few disorientating seconds. Then he recognised the pattern on the wall opposite him, and the now cold fireplace. 

With a feeling of mortification Harry shot up, a blanket slipping from his shoulders as he realised he had fallen asleep before his lover had returned to their rooms. Scrambling off the couch Harry felt for the Dark Lord through their connection, immediately sensing him in the dining room.

All but stumbling into the room, an apology ready on his lips, Harry was dumbfounded to find his lover waiting with a breakfast spread at the ready, an amused expression on his face.

‘I…’ Harry said awkwardly.

‘…am just in time for breakfast,’ Lord Voldemort finished. His expression of amusement increased as Harry floundered, caught between lingering embarrassment and fondness at the gesture.

Harry took a seat at the table to his lover’s right, mouth watering at the delectable breakfast options presented. Lord Voldemort wordlessly poured him a cup of his favourite tea blend. The domesticity of it all stunned Harry breathless for a moment before he grinned at his fiancé. ‘I am definitely going to make it up to you for last night.’

The Dark Lord’s crimson eyes flashed at the announcement, a sultry tone in his voice as he asked, ‘And how might you do that, my love?’

Harry calmly reached for some toast, buttering it in a blasé fashion as he informed the man next to him, ‘First I am going to eat my breakfast. And then I’m going to get under the table and suck your cock.’

As Lord Voldemort was pinned still, body coiled with burgeoning lust at the announcement, Harry took a pleased bite of his toast and smiled coyly up at his lover.

He was going to be late for class.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

_Hogwarts’ Express – The Citadel – Western Russia_

1997

* * *

 

The piercing whistle of the Hogwarts Express resonated loudly in the open-air station, signalling the train’s imminent departure. It was Friday afternoon, and the beginning of the Yuletide holiday period.

Harry had decided to take the train with his friends rather than immediately Floo to his lover’s side. He was going to be spending the next two weeks almost exclusively in Lord Voldemort’s presence, and so he wanted to take the opportunity to socialise with his fellow students.

Harry was seated by the window in the train compartment, Daphne to his left and Draco opposite him. Millicent had taken the spot next to Draco, and looked rather uncomfortable between he and the snide Pansy Parkinson.

Theo, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were in another compartment somewhere else on the train, no doubt relieved to have a Pansy-free area. Harry watched the girl boast loudly in that shrill voice of hers, saying something about how she and her parents had been ensured a prime position at the Yuletide feast that Sunday night.

Draco was staring out of the window, not even deigning to grant Pansy his attention. Millicent was looking straight ahead, body language clearly expressing her wish to be anywhere but where she currently was. And Daphne, like Harry, was fixated on the girl – not due to a genuine interest in what the girl was saying. Rather they were each dumbfounded by her attitude and grating personality.

Harry was beginning to regret choosing to travel back on the train.

After he had introduced the Muggleborn Protection Act, allowing muggleborns access to the entrance exams at Hogwarts, he had also made sure that pureblood students would be expected to take the same exams.

However it had seemed cruel to force students who were already at the school to take the exams, and so those purebloods who had joined Hogwarts before Harry’s laws came into effect, were spared from the exam process.

What that meant was that students like Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson could continue to study at Hogwarts, despite their limitations in intelligence and magical power.

He didn’t hate Pansy Parkinson; she was merely a product of a spoilt upbringing and equally unpleasant parents. In fact, he rather pitied her. She was impetuous, plain and unintelligent, yet born into position where she was expected to be calculating, interesting and clever. It was truly a cruel stroke of fate that Pansy Parkinson had been born a pureblood.

Harry himself was not a pureblood, yet he was now facing the challenge of blending into their society. He knew it was possible for a half blood to navigate their way through the pureblood world; his lover was the prime example.

Yet as he sat there in the compartment and listened to Pansy Parkinson’s grating voice, he was struck with an intense anxiety. How would it feel to be in Pansy’s position, to be surrounded by purebloods that were disgusted with his very presence? To be looked down upon with derision?

Yet Harry realised then that he was no stranger to it.

His time as a Courtesan had carved an understanding in him of the cruelty people could inflict, by simply believing they were better than him.  He had always striven to hold his head high, but had nevertheless suffered with each callous insult and dark glare directed his way.

‘Are you okay?’ Daphne asked quietly under her breath, turning her head slightly to address Harry. She was a sharp young woman, with an emotional intuition that bordered on physic. 

Pansy continued talking on, oblivious at the refocus of attention.

‘Just worried about Yuletide,’ Harry murmured back.

‘Well you’ve finally sorted out your dancing issue,’ she whispered, smiling at him encouragingly.

Harry had succeeded in dancing competently with both Daphne and Draco, swapping between leading and following and managing a few different varieties of popular dances. So that wasn’t what was on his mind. Daphne seemed to realise this because she bumped his shoulder gently with her own.

‘Draco and I will be there too. If you need someone to rescue you from an uncomfortable situation, we’ll be waiting nearby,’ she promised.

Harry was seized by a deep affection for the hazel-eyed girl, who had unfalteringly supported him since his first day at Hogwarts, despite being a Courtesan.

‘You’re the best, you know that Daph?’ he told her.

‘I know I am,’ she murmured back, a sly smile on her face. Her eyes were warm.

‘What are you two whispering about together?’ Pansy asked suddenly, brown eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Millicent and Draco both refocused on the conversation at that point.

Before Daphne could say something cutting, Harry jumped in and said smoothly, ‘I was just asking Daphne what she was thinking of wearing to the ball.’

Seeing Pansy opening her mouth to speak again Harry quickly asked Millicent, ‘What are you planning on wearing Millicent?’

As the other girl took the hint and began describing her planned outfit, Pansy finally shut her mouth and listened, albeit in a disgruntled fashion.

Daphne nudged Harry again as though saying, _‘See? You’re already doing well.’_

Harry nudged her back, grateful to have her faith in his abilities.

* * *

 

Arriving at the train station Harry said his goodbyes, hugging both Daphne and Draco and giving the rest of his friends a handshake or a friendly pat on the back. Through some expert manoeuvring he avoided Pansy entirely.

He also had a chance to say goodbye to Seamus Finnigan - he didn’t spend a lot of time nowadays with his roommate outside of their shared space.

It was one thing that Harry regretted after becoming so close to Daphne and Draco – the pureblood and half blood social circles rarely mixed. In ways such as these, change in their society was going to be slow.

But despite his distance he still received a friendly goodbye, which was relieving.

Because of the difficulties with securing the train station to allow the Dark Lord to greet his fiancé in person, Harry was to travel with Bartemius Crouch, who met him on the platform.

The youngest of the Inner Circle was a familiar figure to Harry, mainly due to Angelina Johnson’s relationship with him. It was Bartemius, or “Barty” as Angel called him, who had bought the girl’s Courtesan contract. They had, had an amiable relationship and so after the servile caste had been abolished they remained in contact.

Angelina was being schooled at the same centre Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were receiving an education at, the three girls remaining close. As far as he knew both Alicia and Katie had no contact with their previous contractors.

But Angelina regularly saw Barty, their relationship still of a sexual nature. Neither had any desire for a monogamous agreement though. Angel had confided in him just recently when he visited she and the other girls at the centre that there was definitely no love there between the two of them.

It was an arrangement of mutual benefit and convenience.

Whilst Harry couldn’t personally contemplate such an agreement, regardless of the fact he was in a loving, committed relationship, he supported Angelina in her decision to do what she wanted.

‘How was the trip, my Lord Consort?’ Barty asked him, utilising the title that the Death Eaters used when addressing him. Harry was not yet Lord Consort in an official sense, but the Dark Lord’s followers were adamant to show their Lord’s fiancé full respect.

‘It was pleasant,’ he said politely back, despite the trip being tainted by Pansy Parkinson’s presence. But he didn’t want to go into that with Barty – he wanted to be by his lover’s side as soon as possible.

Harry’s trunk was shrunken and weightless, sitting in his robe pocket, so there was nothing to worry about when Barty gently placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. With a sharp tug Harry was pulled along in Side-Apparition.

They arrived in the Citadel, Barty removing his hand and stepping into a bow as he acknowledged his Lord waiting in the room. Harry smiled as his lover gestured for Barty to rise, thanking him for meeting Harry and bringing him safely.

Barty left the room, allowing the Dark Lord and his future Consort a chance to reunite privately. Harry had seen his lover just recently yet it still gave him a thrill to see those powerful crimson eyes and the handsome face.

They moved toward one another, meeting in the middle of the room and then just standing there close together, foreheads nearly pressed in their proximity. Each was basking in the feelings emanating from their shared magical core.

Finally after a few long minutes they parted almost in synchrony, scarlet eyes meeting emerald eyes in a familiar movement. Harry knew how to _Occlude_ his thoughts but there was no need to shield himself from the person that knew his soul so intimately.

He sensed the Dark Lord skimming his thoughts, not abusing his privilege by digging too deep, but slipping in far enough to gain an impression of Harry’s activities and feelings over the past couple of days.

Harry buried his memories of his dancing lessons effortlessly as his lover glided over, wanting to keep it a surprise. If the Dark Lord noticed the motion, he did not mind. He did however nudge his lover to the memory of that afternoon in the train compartment.

Lord Voldemort was disdainful of the Parkinson heiress, but his approval shone brightly at Daphne’s support and Harry’s actions. When they finally disengaged, the Dark Lord stroked Harry’s soft face gently and hissed in Parseltongue, ‘ ** _This friend of yours, the Greengrass heiress – she is a worthy companion.’_**

**_‘I know she is,’_** Harry returned fondly, head tilted to one side to allow his lover’s wandering fingers more skin to trace over.

**_‘It is important for you to keep the worthy close to you. Once you are my Consort we must think of organising a personal guard for you.’_ **

Harry blinked up at the Dark Lord, surprised. He had not contemplated the possibility of having an Inner Circle of his own, close followers to advise him and do his bidding. But now that the idea had been put forth, the more intrigued Harry was.

The first names to come to mind were of course Daphne and Draco, but Harry also considered the possibility of having Hermione and even the twins at his side. They were less trained of course, but he valued their advice and companionship in his life. Then there was Luna, who was not only his friend but also a Seer.

**_‘I can feel your mind at work,’_** Lord Voldemort hissed, a note of affection in his voice.

**_‘Would I have full permission to choose my own guard?’_** Harry asked curiously.

**_‘Only you have the right to pick your own followers,’_** the Dark Lord said firmly. **_‘However I would like to know who it is you have picked before you make the announcement.’_**

**_‘Of course,’_** Harry promised, taking his lover’s lips in a kiss.

They stood there kissing for a while; luxuriating in the connection it provided and the feeling of having no immediate duties to take care of. It was Harry who broke away, breathlessly saying, **_‘Bed.’_**

The Dark Lord happily complied with the order given, pulling Harry close in his arms as he bent the Citadel wards to _Apparate_ them to their private bedchamber. It was a familiar motion, Lord Voldemort unwilling to wait when sex was on offer. His impatience was a distinctly human trait that Harry found both comforting and amusing.

They appeared beside the bed they had spent so much time in over the past year and parted again only to strip themselves of their clothes. It could be done with magic of course, but there was something more intimate about baring yourself piece by piece.

Soon they were both naked, drinking in the sight of one another. Harry felt no self-consciousness having been naked around his lover many times before. He was confident with his own body, and assured of his lover’s attraction.

Harry climbed onto the bed, lying back on the sheets and pressing up against the headboard with a pillow beneath his back. He parts his legs widely enough for the Dark Lord to settle between them.

Confusion momentarily took a hold of him when Lord Voldemort instead lay downflat on his belly below Harry, far enough up so that Harry’s thighs brushed against his shoulders and his face was level with Harry’s cock.

**_‘Tell me if you want me to stop,’_** the Dark Lord said, his words ghosting across Harry’s cock.

Harry has always been a willing submissive partner in bed, and whilst eager to take control every so often, he was certainly not expecting this gesture from his fiancé.  

Lord Voldemort placed one long-fingered hand on Harry’s thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin close to the juncture of Harry’s leg and groin.

**_‘I can’t believe you even need to ask,’_** Harry huffed out incredulously.

He had the most dangerous man in Britain, if not the world, poised between his legs. Yet there is no denying how safe he feels with his lover.

Then with a note of embarrassment Harry adds, **_‘I’m probably not going to last very long.’_**

**_‘Just let me help you feel good,’_** was the sensual response.

Harry nearly came right then.

Then the Dark Lord leaned forward and licked a long, hot stripe down Harry’s cock and his hips jerked up involuntarily. However his lover was prepared for that, pulling away slightly so as not to be choked. Then he repeated the motion, laving the underside of Harry’s cock attentively while sliding both his hands up to rest on top of his younger lover’s hip bones to pin him gently down in place.

Harry tried not to whimper when the Dark Lord began lapping at the head, his thumbs tracing circles into Harry’s skin while he licked up pre cum. Harry gave a low moan at the sight, emerald eyes mere slits with feverish pleasure.

This wasn’t at all like the blowjob he’d given Lord Voldemort at breakfast the morning before. It was not better or worse in terms of skill, but what was special was the specific meaning behind the action. Yesterday had been about pleasure.

This was about trust.

As the Dark Lord slowly began to take Harry in, pulling breathless moans and little helpless, hitched cries from Harry’s lips, they managed to lock eyes. Green stared down upon red, and without pausing in his rhythm, Lord Voldemort reached up to grasp one of Harry’s hands, bringing it down to place on top of his head.

Harry tentatively slid his fingers through the Dark Lord’s silky black hair, gripping him but not wanting to pull too hard. Lord Voldemort merely gave Harry’s hips a small squeeze, glancing up at Harry with half-lidded eyes. The younger man understood the permission he was being given.

Harry began to thrust up into his lover’s mouth, into that perfect enveloping heat, groaning when he felt the muscles of the Dark Lord’s throat fluttering around him to create a tight channel. The head of his cock hit the back of Lord Voldemort’s throat and Harry was gone, coming at last with a shuddering exhale.

His vision whited out for a few blissful moments, his entire body slumping back down limply onto the sheets. Lord Voldemort continued to hold Harry’s cock in his mouth, swallowing his release with ease before finally pulling back.

His head then turned sideways into Harry’s inner thigh to nuzzle at his skin, pressing a soft, brief kiss there that made Harry shiver. For a few minutes, they simply lay in silence, breathing together.

Coming back into awareness Harry asked in a husky voice, **_‘Can I return the favour?’_**

His lover laughed, asking, **_‘Do you have the energy to? I fear I have tired you out.’_**

Indeed, Harry felt incredibly lethargic from the incredible orgasm he had just experienced. But he was determined to give his lover pleasure from this encounter also.

**_‘Give me a minute and then we’ll see who’s laughing.’_ **

* * *

 

Nymphadora Tonks huddled deeper into her magically heated coat, tucking her face in slightly to shield it from the icy wind. The further north she travelled, the colder it seemed to get.

On either side of her were two Death Eaters, sent to assist her from Britain. They too looked freezing, faces ruddy from the aching temperature of the Russian winter.

The two young informants she had discovered could only indicate the Order were planning to move north, and so north she had travelled. The movements of she and her two assistants were to remain hidden from the Russian Ministry of Magic and so they were taking extra care to avoid wizarding establishments.

Brooms were their primary mode of transport, which no doubt put them far behind the Order that would be using Portkeys to shift their followers. Whilst a Portkey was viable for the trio, there was no way to judge where exactly the Order had gone. It would create the risk of missing them, and going in the wrong direction entirely.

In the hands of one of Death Eaters, Alia Cross, was one of the medallions that had been used to transport the serviles en masse from Britain to France a year ago. Whilst it had deactivated once it had been used, it still retained traces of magic on it from the original enchantment.

Using a complex tracking spell on the gold coin they were able to gain a vague sense of the direction of the Order. It was too soon to say how close they were, but once they reached a certain radius of the area they had made camp in, the spell would activate in earnest.

For now though they needed to have a break and recuperate from the last leg of their journey. Holding her broom to her side, Tonks watched enviously as the two Death Eaters pulled forth their wands and began organising a temporary shelter.

She had been given a wand, but it was not the perfect fit that her first one had been before it had been confiscated and destroyed. When the Dark Lord had seized control, she had been thirteen. She remembered some basic spells from her first few years of her Hogwarts education, but that was the extent of her magical knowledge.

She hoped that once she had succeeded in her mission she could perhaps be allowed to attend school to be properly taught, but her first priority remained her children.

In the year that she had been hunting down her once-allies she had only seen her sons and daughter twice, and only for short visits. There had been no real time to ask Calix about school, or to see Teddy’s progress with his reading or to even hold her baby daughter close.

She hadn’t been allowed to see Rabastan at all, but she had heard whilst he had been demoted, no further punishment had been exacted on him for saving her life and betraying his Lord in the process.

Tonks was grateful for what her ex-contractor had done for her, and guilty that he had suffered due to her refusal to abandon her children.

Thinking of family reminded her of her parents.

Andromeda and Edward “Ted” Tonks had been collared as Menials when the Dark Lord took control. They had been given medallions to escape and remained with the Order to this day. After hearing the Weasley twins’ report that the Order were abusing mind magic to influence their followers, it made Tonks seriously consider whether her parents could also have been affected.

It concerned her that she couldn’t decide whether they remained loyal to the Order of their own free will or via magical means. She herself, although having sworn an Unbreakable Oath of loyalty to the Dark Lord, still felt it was her duty to protect the Order members where possible.

She had hope that Lord Voldemort would spare those involved in the Order’s schemes, and allow them to pursue ordinary lives. It was idealistic perhaps, and she understood no such clemency would be given for the ringleaders of the organisation, but after seeing the changes in wizarding Britain there was a reason to have that hope.

‘We’ll rest for an hour,’ the other Death Eater named Eric Lake announced, dragging Tonks’ attention to the magically expanded tent that had been erected.

Eager to get in and out of the freezing wind, she was quick to follow Cross, who was already inside. Lake came in behind her, magically sealing the tent flap so as to keep out the creeping cold.

The inside of the tent was bigger than it looked on the outside, equipped with a sleeping space for the two women and a separate one for Lake. There was also a small kitchen and eating area.

‘Do you want anything to eat?’ Alia Cross asked.

She was quite tall, her body muscled from her training and her black hair cropped short to prevent it from being used against her in a fight. Her eyes were her prettiest feature, rich amber that seemed to soften her otherwise serious face.

She was also kind to Tonks, despite the fact she was an ex-Order member and had been implicit in the kidnapping of Draco Malfoy. Alia was a half-blood like Tonks herself, and not particularly invested in pureblood society.

However Eric Lake was a pureblood, and he clearly detested the mere presence of Tonks. He was an associate of the Malfoy’s and thus held a grudge against the Metamorphmagus.

Tonks made sure to give him space, and make no attempts to engage him in conversation after the first few unpleasant exchanges they had, had.

‘No I’m fine, thank you,’ Tonks said, offering the other woman a small smile.

Alia shrugged and went to go rummage around in the kitchen, which was magically stocked with non-perishable items.

Feeling rather tired, and having no desire to sit in stony silence with Lake, Tonks left the main area to the sleeping space she shared with Alia.

It would be a good idea to catch some sleep before they continued their pursuit of the Order.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

_The Citadel – Number 12 Grimmauld Place_

1997

* * *

 

‘Thank you for meeting with me Narcissa,’ Harry said warmly as he escorted the pureblood woman into a meeting room in the Citadel.

The Lady Malfoy gave the Dark Lord’s fiancé a small smile as she responded, ‘I am pleased to offer any assistance I can give Harry.’

Narcissa was one of the few people in Harry’s life that did not address him formally by his title – or the title he would soon bear. She was the mother of one of his closest friends, and over the past year in particular had provided Harry with guidance and support.

She watched curiously as Harry set about wandlessly warding the room for privacy, taking a seat on an available chair. The young man’s strength was undeniable; the hairs on her neck and arms were raised as his magic threaded through the room.

After he was satisfied the room was secure, Harry came and sat down on the couch opposite hers.

Without preamble Harry got straight to the point as usual.

‘It’s my Lord’s birthday in less than two weeks – the last day of December.’

Narcissa blinked but otherwise did not allow her surprise to show. Whilst it was known that the Dark Lord had been born at some point, had been born _human_ , it was a fact that was largely ignored. Even his birth name, Tom Riddle, had been struck from written record, and those who were old enough to remember a time before he took up the mantle of the Dark Lord, did not dare linger on those memories, nor draw attention to it. He was immortal, a figure of power. Narcissa rationally knew he would have a date of birth, but hearing Harry say it out loud was more than strange.

‘He never told me, and we certainly did not mark it last year, but I know the information because of our shared magical core,’ Harry explained.

Narcissa nodded in understanding  - she was aware of the information and memory sharing two core-bonded underwent.

‘We’re to be married soon,’ Harry continued. ‘Earlier this year he organised a celebration for my birthday, and he made it special for me.’

‘You want to do the same for him,’ Narcissa stated.

‘Yes, but not exactly,’ Harry replied. ‘He wouldn’t want a celebration – the less people who know his date of birth, the better.’

‘But you want to mark its passing in some way,’ Narcissa murmured, mind already calculating the best route to take in handling the situation.

‘Yes,’ Harry sighed.

‘It’s rather close to the Yuletide celebrations,’ the pureblood woman mused. ‘You could do something for him then.’

Harry cocked his head to one side, considering the option.

‘It would certainly tone down the situation, in case he doesn’t want me to acknowledge his birthday.’

But Narcissa was already shaking her head. ‘No, there’s not enough time to plan – Yuletide begins tomorrow, so anything you prepare would be rushed.’

Harry agreed with her on that – he was at a loss with what to get the person who already had everything.

‘So we need to prepare something for after the celebrations,’ Narcissa said decisively. Then as an afterthought she asked, ‘Have you thought about what you want to do?’

‘That’s my problem,’ Harry said wryly. ‘What would he really want for his birthday?’

‘You,’ Narcissa delivered, deadpan.

Harry laughed outright at the response, causing the Lady Malfoy’s stony mask to crack a little as her eyes danced with mirth.

‘In all honesty though, you may have a point,’ Harry said; smile fading into a contemplative frown. ‘We’ve both been so busy over the past few months, and often when we do plan to meet, one of us has other obligations.’

Harry remembered just a few nights ago when he had fallen asleep – even though he had made it up to his lover the next morning, they had still missed out on an evening together.

‘There is your answer then,’ Narcissa responded. ‘I will help you organise an escape for a few days.’

Harry was gripped with excitement at the thought of a few uninterrupted days with his lover. But dampening his high spirits was the hard truth of their duties.

‘It may be the holiday period, but my Lord still has meetings to attend and paperwork to complete.’

But Narcissa had already realised that and come up with a solution. ‘My husband would be honoured to take responsibility for those tasks. And I am confident my sister and brother-in-law can assist.’ Then she hesitated and added, ‘Perhaps not my sister. Bellatrix is unpredictable at the best of times.’

‘It would only be for a couple of days,’ Harry agreed. ‘And I already have a place in mind.’

When he had been restored as the sole heir to the Potter family fortune, he had also come into the ownership of a number of properties that had been left unoccupied. There was the Potter Manor, which he had briefly visited earlier that year, but it was too large to provide the intimacy that he wanted his with lover. Another property, that he had yet to visit, was a villa in Italy. That was an option, but Harry knew the Dark Lord would want to stay on British soil for security reasons.

The property Harry had in mind was a quaint two-storey cottage located on an isolated stretch on coast in Cornwall. His great-great grandfather had apparently built it as a wedding present for his wife.

The Dark Lord had yet to see it; Harry had visited it with Remus last month while his lover had been occupied with meetings.  

It had two bedrooms, each with a bathroom en-suite, a kitchen, study and sitting room. The cottage was small, but the surrounding area made up for the lack of space inside. An empty stretch of coast and fields of sea lavender stretched for as far as the eye could see. It was simple, but beautiful in its wildness and isolation.

‘I will start making preparations immediately for the Dark Lord’s absence,’ Narcissa said, breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

She rose and Harry stood with her, moving around the low table between them to approach the taller woman.

‘Thank you Narcissa,’ he said fondly, embracing her in a hug.

The pureblood woman startled slightly, still unused to Harry’s physical affection. It was something that was still rather alien in pureblood society, even between family members. She hugged him cautiously in return, marvelling that such a magically dangerous man could be so small.

Harry broke down the privacy wards with a wave of his hand as Narcissa left the room, and she shivered as she felt the brush of potent magic.

Powerful indeed.

* * *

 

Harry visited the residence of Sirius Black that afternoon as he had assured Remus he would, accompanied by the werewolf himself. He wore a thick cloak and a layer of heating charms to protect his body from the icy weather.

Shortly after knocking on the door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place it was opened to reveal Sirius Black himself. Harry hugged him unhesitatingly, knowing his godfather would detect any reluctance and take it personally. Their relationship was still strained at times.

Stepping aside to allow Sirius room to hug Remus, Harry peered inside the house to catch sight of Hermione and the twins.

‘Head on inside,’ Sirius said warmly. ‘Hermione and the twins are in the library last I checked.’

‘Thanks Sirius,’ Harry replied with a smile and proceeded ahead.

He knew his way around the Black home very well as a result of many visits over the past year. Arriving outside of the closed library door, Harry heard muffled conversation and what sounded like the incantation of spells. Grinning slightly, he opened the door and walked inside.

Hermione was sitting on one of the couches in the room, an open spell book resting on her lap. The twins stood in front of her in a small cleared space, each with a wand in their hand practicing a spell.

‘Harry!’ Hermione exclaimed happily, setting the book to the side and moving over to hug her foster-brother.

Fred and George were quick to follow, carefully holstering their wands and sweeping Harry into a tight embrace each.

‘I can see you’ve been practicing,’ Harry said.

‘Fred and I are enrolling in one of the education centres after Yuletide,’ George explained.

Fred continued on at the end of his brother’s sentence, ‘And so Hermione here is giving us a little head start on magical theory before we begin our studies.’

They both beamed at her and she grinned in back, returning to the couch to pick up the spell book and replace it in the nearest shelf.

‘We’ll take a break now though – Sirius has prepared afternoon tea.’

In a normal pureblood household that duty would be completed by house elves, but the only one currently employed at Grimmauld Place was Kreacher. The sour old elf barely listened to Sirius’ commands, instead lurking about the home and hoarding old trinkets.

Sirius didn’t have the heart to send him away, and was also aware that the house elf had witnessed things he had done that were incriminating. Even though the Dark Lord had pardoned him, Sirius was still cautious of how he acted.

Harry followed Hermione and the twins to the kitchen and took a seat at the long wooden table where sandwiches and tea had been set up. Harry had, had no idea Sirius had it in him, but he supposed the man would have to know how to look after himself with a house elf like Kreacher.

Remus and Sirius entered the room shortly afterwards, with Sirius taking the head of the table to Harry’s right and Remus sitting beside Hermione. While Remus engaged Hermione and the twins in conversation on their magical progress, Sirius began speaking with Harry.

‘It’s been awhile since I last saw you,’ the pureblood man said gently as he poured both himself and Harry a cup of tea.

Harry thanked him as he wrapped his hands around the warm china to heat his cold fingers. ‘I’ve been busy with school,’ Harry replied amiably.

‘And other things,’ Sirius added. His eyes were on the hickey on the side of Harry’s neck.

At first Harry thought the man was expressing his disapproval of his relationship with the Dark Lord, but then he saw the glimmer of humour in his godfather’s eyes and he realised Sirius was merely teasing him.

‘Yes and other things,’ Harry agreed, taking a sip of the tea to hide his embarrassment at being caught out by his godfather.

He felt warm inside, not only from the hot drink in his hands but from his godfather’s acceptance of his lover. It had been a long road for Sirius to understand why Harry loved the Dark Lord, the man who headed the regime that had killed Lily and James Potter.

A part of Sirius would never truly forgive Lord Voldemort for that.

But he loved Harry, and was willing to set aside his own anger and reluctance to keep his godson in his life.

‘How has your new job been going?’ Harry asked.

Sirius had once worked in a desk job at the Ministry where his actions could be monitored and restricted. He had, had no choice in his occupation, which he had hated with a passion. After the restrictions on him had been relaxed at Harry’s command, he had promptly escaped the job.

For a few months he had remained unemployed before finally applying for a position as an Auror. It was a job he had once practiced in before the Dark Lord’s rise to power, alongside Harry’s father.

‘I’m still a junior officer so I don’t get to see a lot of action,’ Sirius explained. ‘And a lot has changed since…’ He trailed off a little awkwardly, taking a mouthful of tea rather than continuing to talk.

‘Since Lord Voldemort took power,’ Harry finished for him unabashedly. Sirius was uncertain at times whether he would bother Harry by bringing attention to the things his lover had done.

But Harry wanted Sirius to understand that he would never make excuses for his lover’s actions.

‘Yes,’ Sirius replied slowly. His blue eyes gazed at Harry for a moment, as the conversation in the background between the others continued.

Harry set his tea to the side as he sensed Sirius wanted to ask him something.

‘You are going to marry the Dark Lord in a few months time,’ the pureblood began tentatively.

Harry waited in silence for his godfather to continue, his expression encouraging Sirius to say whatever he wanted to say.

‘I have been wondering…of course I understand if you have made other arrangements, but-’ Sirius cut himself off and took a steadying breath.

‘It is a pureblood tradition for the parents or guardians of the person marrying into another family, to formally give their blessing in the wedding ceremony and give their son or daughter away.’ Sirius hesitated as he searched Harry’s face for any indication he knew what Sirius was hinting at.

Harry carefully maintained a poker face as he waited for his godfather to build the courage to just _ask_ him already.

‘I don’t know what you have already planned with the Dark Lord - if you are having a traditional wedding or something different. But if you do plan to oversee tradition…’ Sirius paused again.

Just as Harry was about to take pity on him and break the silence, Sirius plucked up the courage and said gently, ‘I would be honoured if you would allow me to represent you as your guardian and give you away.’

The vulnerability on Sirius’ face was achingly obvious, his anxiety clear in the darting of his eyes and the clench of his hands hidden beneath the table.

Remus sensed the tension from where he was conversing with Hermione and the twins, amber eyes taking in the duo with a hint of worry.

Harry reached over to Sirius, placing a hand on his godfather’s arm.

‘I am sure my parents would approve,’ he said softly. Then with a smile on his face he stated, ‘Of course you will be the one to give me away. You’re my godfather.’

Sirius broke out into a huge grin, one of his hands moving to clasp Harry’s and squeeze it in thanks.

As Harry turned to the other conversation still ongoing he saw Remus’ pleased smile and returned it with one of his own.

Sitting there at the table in Grimmauld Place, surrounded by the people he saw as family, Harry was content.

* * *

 

The day of the winter solstice dawned bright and cold, the sun obscured behind angry dark clouds that promised a heavy snowfall to come.

Harry lay in bed with his lover, enjoying a rare opportunity to sleep in. The body pressed behind him was warm and solid, the arms around him a comforting weight. Harry sleepily pushed back against that warmth and was rewarded with a distinctive hardness pressing against his buttocks.

**_‘You are still eager for more?’_** the Dark Lord hissed sensually, yet with a hint of incredulity.

They had already made love that morning, the evidence of their copulation still painted on their skin and the sheets below them.

**_‘I am always eager for you,’_** Harry responded, turning in the circle of the Dark Lord’s arms to seize his lover’s lips in a deep kiss.

As they luxuriated with each other, bodies undulating, Harry sensed the Horcrux within him purring with delight. It was so fully weaved into his very being, that he was often surprised when he detected it.

The echo from the soul shard reverberated through their shared magical core, causing a response from the Dark Lord. He rolled over on top of Harry, their slow encounter turning more passionate and lustful.

Harry was still slightly sore from their previous experience in bed that morning, and Lord Voldemort seemed to realise this instinctively. Thus he avoided any further penetration and instead rolled his hips against a soft thigh.

Harry rocked his hips upward in return, grasping the back of the Dark Lord’s neck to hook him into another kiss. Their motions grew unsteady as they both approached climax, their sweat and pre-cum mingling where their skin touched.

Each orgasmed within moments of each other, the feedback loop between their shared magical core amplifying their pleasure into an intense crescendo.

Eventually the Dark Lord rolled back off of his lover, and made room to allow Harry to tuck himself into his side. They were both lax and content as snowflakes began to drift from the sky.

The rasp of scales alerted both to Nagini’s presence, each having been too wrapped up in the other to sense the snake’s arrival in the room. She slithered sinuously onto the bed, coiling around both her master and her master’s mate.

Their nakedness meant nothing to her, but Harry still blushed and leant further into his Lord’s side as Nagini’s cool scales covered him.

**_‘Are you done mating?’_** the snake hissed petulantly.

Harry coughed awkwardly at the question whilst his lover laughed quietly, reaching out to stroke Nagini’s head.

**_‘Yes my sweet.’_ **

Harry pouted slightly at that – he had thought they could fit in at least one more round before the Dark Lord was called away for his duties.

**_‘You’ve made the hatchling sad,’_** Nagini noted disapprovingly, tongue flickering out to taste the air. She still insisted on calling Harry a hatchling despite him legally being an adult in the wizarding world.

**_‘I apologise, my love,’_** Lord Voldemort hissed, pressing his lips to Harry’s forehead. **_‘I have tasks that need attention.’_**

**_‘I understand,’_** Harry assured his lover.

The Dark Lord slipped out from under Nagini’s scales then, rising from the bed in all of his naked glory. Harry felt a thread of lust go through him at the sight of those powerful muscles.

Offering the emerald-eyed man a smirk, Lord Voldemort cleaned and clothed himself with a twitch of magic.

Then he was gone with a twist of Apparition, leaving Harry alone in their chambers with Nagini for company.

**_‘There are many people in the Citadel today,’_** Nagini hissed in a disgruntled fashion. She did not appreciate the crowds.

**_‘There is a feast tonight,’_** Harry explained.

The snake’s tail lashed in interest at that, the promise of food an enticing thought.

**_‘I will get to hunt tonight?’_** she asked slyly, her reptilian eyes slitted.

**_‘No people!’_** Harry exclaimed. He was aware the Dark Lord occasionally allowed Nagini free reign to pursue and attack enemies, as she had done to Alastor Moody. 

**_‘No people,’_** she agreed, albeit with a degree of annoyance.

**_‘I’ll find something special for you,’_** Harry promised in return for her acquiescence.

She squeezed his body slightly with her powerful coils, yet Harry felt no fear. They were brother and sister of a sort, each bearing a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul.

**_‘I have some errands to do,’_** Harry informed the snake. **_‘Would you care to join me?’_**

**_‘Of course,’_** she responded.

* * *

 

Thick snow and sleet pounded against the tall glass windows of the reception hall in the Citadel, but the fireplaces were pouring heat out to combat the chill from the stone walls. Colourfully dressed guests mingled in the hall, drinking from flute glasses and tasting appetisers from the plates being hovered through the room by house elves.

In the past Menials would have been serving the guests, but with the abolishment of the servile caste that was no longer the case.

Harry stood with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, wearing expensive black dress robes that were cut to frame his figure. His wild black hair had been painstakingly styled into a presentable manner. He anxiously handled a flute of champagne, every so often taking a sip of the alcohol to calm his nerves.

His lover was on the other side of the room, deep in discussion with some high-ranking Ministry officials. He cut a striking figure in his own dress robes, looking effortlessly handsome and powerful as he held court.

Harry’s attention was brought back to his companions when Narcissa discreetly touched his arm. The young man followed her line of sight and saw a familiar woman approaching them, looking stunning in a red dress that bordered on indecent.

Her dark eyes were intent, her body language pure sex as she swayed over to insinuate herself by Harry’s side.

Narcissa was stiff as she said, ‘My Lord Consort, may I introduce you to the Lady Carlotta Zabini.’

Harry smoothly took the woman’s hand and placed a kiss upon it as she dipped her head respectfully.

‘You are even more handsome up close my Lord Consort,’ she purred, cocking her head playfully to one side.

Then almost as an afterthought she turned to Narcissa and Lucius, acknowledging them also, by offering her hand to Lucius. He kissed it rather reluctantly, Harry noted with a hint of amusement. To Narcissa she nodded her head, eyes never leaving the other woman’s.

Harry remembered Carlotta Zabini from the gala he had attended when he had still been a Courtesan. She had brought her own Courtesan with her, a bronze-haired male a few years older than Harry.

Despite Harry’s interest in the other male Courtesan, he had been distracted with his forced entrance into the Tri-Wizard Tournament and then the subsequent preparation for core bonding with his lover.

There was no sign of the bronze-haired male at this particular party - no doubt after the Servile caste was abolished he had left the Lady Zabini’s service.

‘You look lovely tonight, my lady,’ Harry complimented her politely. Despite her outfit toeing the line of propriety it was nonetheless very flattering against her dark skin and ample curves.

‘Thank you,’ she replied, her voice dropping lower into a sensual murmur.

Harry sensed both Narcissa and Lucius’ exasperation palpably.

Searching for any way to make conversation Harry asked, ‘How is Blaise? I have not yet seen him tonight.’

‘He was with conversing with Draco the last time I saw him,’ Carlotta responded, with a nod toward Lucius and Narcissa. 

Harry wished he was with his school friends right now, but he had to make an effort to mingle with the older crowd.

After a brief conversation discussing recent amendments to the Hogwarts school curriculum, Carlotta spotted someone she knew in the throng of people and turned to Harry to say, ‘It was lovely meeting you, my Lord Consort. If you’ll excuse me?’

Harry had barely acknowledged her request before she was off. He watched her sashay toward the handsome male friend she had set her eyes on and turned to the Lord and Lady Malfoy.

‘She was…interesting.’

‘Carlotta Zabini is a dangerous woman,’ Narcissa said, eyes still following the woman as she flirted her way across the room.

‘Although any one of her seven deceased husbands could have told you that,’ Lucius added quietly.

Carlotta Zabini was dangerous, yes.

But any one the people currently circling in the room were a potential danger for Harry.

Unable to resist leaving the topic alone after he had been reminded of it, Harry stated, ‘She once had a male Courtesan.’

Two sets of eyes studied him briefly before Lucius answered, ‘Yes, but he has since left her service of course.’

‘Who was he?’ Harry asked.

‘Cedric Diggory,’ Narcissa answered. ‘Pureblood, but his parents were Order supporters.’

‘What happened to them?’ Harry asked. He was unsure why it mattered so much to him to know, but it was perhaps because Cedric was the only other male Courtesan he had ever come across.

‘They were collared as Menials but have since been restored to their original status,’ Lucius replied.

So they had not been chosen to escape with the Order last year.

‘Thank you for giving me this information,’ Harry said appreciatively.

Lucius and Narcissa acknowledged his thanks and Harry wondered if would be right for him to contact Cedric. He had the tools to find the other man, and the means to request a meeting, but what reason would he have to do it besides satisfying his curiosity?

Pushing the matter aside for later thought, Harry refocused on the present and asked the Malfoy couple, ‘Would you both be able to introduce me to some more people?’

As they approached the nearest group of guests, Harry steeled himself for the mingling to come. His head lifted and his spine straightened as he enveloped himself in a faint cloak of magical power. It was a technique his lover had taught him.

He was determined to hold his own tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Regarding wizarding custom and marriages, I just wanted to reiterate if it wasn’t clear that the person in the marriage who is taking the name of the other party (usually the female but not always) is ‘given away’. That does not entail walking down the aisle, but what it does mean is his/her parents or guardians will ceremonially give their blessings and consent to the union. Harry will be keeping his own name but he is in essence marrying into a position of power, thus he is the party who is to be ‘given away.’ 
> 
> More of Yuletide to come in the next chapter. Stay tuned! 
> 
> Drops of Nightshade x


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: I apologise for the long delay in updating but I have been right in the middle of exams. I'm actually still in my exam period, but I managed to finish and edit this chapter, so I'm posting it now. It is shorter than usual, but I should be able to return to my usual word count once I have more time.
> 
> Drops of Nightshade x

**Chapter Six**

_The Citadel_

1997

* * *

 

‘Tell us more about the Muggleborn adoption program you’ve proposed,’ Lord Nott requested politely, but there was an undercurrent of challenge in his tone as he observed Harry.

‘As you know I have continued pushing for Muggleborns to be permitted to remain with their birth parents,’ Harry spoke calmly.

The assembled purebloods around him tensed at that reminder, eyes turning steely and mouths pinching in disapproval at the admission. It was a common sentiment amongst purebloods and many half-bloods that it was right for muggleborns to be removed from the Muggle environment.

‘Whilst I am unable to gain any ground in that regard, I have in the mean time dedicated resources to ensuring muggleborns are given the best opportunity to be incorporated into the wizarding world,’ Harry continued, unflinching in the face of what the people around him thought.

Lucius and Narcissa had left his side when they had felt confident he could hold his own with the group of people they had introduced him to. He was determined to prove his worth.

‘Ah yes I read a report on that in the Daily Prophet the other day,’ one of the pureblood women chimed in. ‘You established a new housing facility in London just last week.’

The other men and women nodded and murmured quietly in acknowledgement of that fact. They were far more approving of Harry’s actions in furthering the separation of muggleborns and Muggles.

‘I did,’ Harry stated. ‘And I have put forth an adoption program to allow wizarding families take in Muggleborn children.’

‘How philanthropic,’ Lord Nott said dryly, eyes still hard.

‘I like to think of it as a necessity,’ Harry returned, locking eyes with the older man.

Lord Nott raised an eyebrow in question, allowing Harry an opportunity to substantiate his point. The other purebloods were from minor houses and had not dared openly challenge the future Lord Consort. But Lord Nott was the patriarch of a wealthy and influential pureblood family and had the social standing to risk testing Harry.

‘If muggleborns remain in the governmental system for the entirety of their childhood and teenage years, they pose a serious financial dilemma. I am sure you can all appreciate your tax money being put to other resources.’

As Harry spoke the nodding of heads and quiet murmurs of assent encouraged him, but he had eyes only for Lord Nott, who continued to look unimpressed.

‘You have a valid point,’ he commented with a stony face. ‘But you must admit wizarding families may be reluctant to adopt a child on the cusp of adolescence, already set in their Muggle ways.’

‘That could have been an issue in the past,’ Harry replied smoothly. ‘In January the Ministry will be implementing a new detection program to identify magical children in the Muggle world. I have overseen the project myself, and can assure you of its accuracy. We will be able to recognise magical children as young as two.’

Harry still disapproved of _Obliviating_ Muggle parents and taking their child from them, but even he could agree that removing a child at a younger age was a better alternative. At least this way, Muggle children could let go of their birth parents with more ease.

The response to Harry’s announcement was a mixture of interest and excitement – even Lord Nott could not entirely hide his intrigue at the possibilities this now presented.

‘As for the current muggleborn children living in government facilities, they have a compulsory wizarding customs and traditions class. Most are eager for the opportunity to learn about our world and let go of their Muggle roots,’ Harry added. ‘They will be the last generation of muggleborns to enter the wizarding world with an extended exposure to Muggles.’

He knew he had them then – it was one of the primary concerns in pureblood society that Harry would attempt to smother wizarding traditions with Muggle customs. As he saw the approval and growing respect on the faces of the purebloods around him, Harry felt a thrill of power thrum through him.

‘My Lord Consort,’ a gravelly voice announced from behind Harry. Blinking in surprise, Harry turned to see the hulking form Fenrir Greyback. He had put little effort into his appearance, silver hair hanging in a tangled mane around his face and his dress robes ill-fitting on his tall, muscled frame.

Yet he was holding his own against the polished people around him, his very presence threatening. Unlike Remus, Fenrir boldly and proudly displayed his inner wolf in his mannerisms, and it created a potent impression of danger and power.

Harry had, had little to do with the werewolf since the execution of Zacharias Smith, but he was instinctively cautious.

‘Alpha Greyback,’ Harry returned respectfully. He sensed the contempt of the purebloods around him toward the werewolf, but he knew from his interactions with Remus how important courtesy was in werewolf society.

He was rewarded for his courtesy when Greyback’s amber-flecked blue eyes flashed in approval. He also seemed to draw back his inner wolf, allowing Harry to relax slightly.

‘I wanted to express my thanks for the prisoners you bestowed on me a fortnight ago,’ said the werewolf.

Menials were no longer sent to Fenrir’s territories in the north to be turned and put into service to the higher pack members. In their absence, and the end to the decade old agreement the Dark Lord had made with Fenrir, prisoners were suggested as a substitute.

Once every six months a small selection of suitable inmates were transported to Fenrir, turned, and allocated to a wolf pack. As far as Harry knew there were around eight packs, not including Fenrir’s own. Each of the Alphas of an individual pack owed allegiance to Fenrir as the head Alpha.

The prisoners were given the option between being turned and serving life sentences in Azkaban. Most chose to be turned, dreading a life locked behind bars. The ex-convicts had the opportunity to be rehabilitated in werewolf society, and were carefully managed and kept under control by the packs.

Remus operated very differently to Fenrir, preferring a more human approach to the pack hierarchy. Although being a head Alpha of sorts for the French packs in the south he did not enforce authority. He allowed other Alphas to democratically vote against he and his decisions.

‘It was a pleasure to clear up some cells in Azkaban,’ Harry replied, noticing the purebloods behind him returning to their own conversations as Harry gave the werewolf his attention.

Fenrir was about to respond when he stiffened and his nostrils flared as though catching a scent. Harry watched as he brought his wolf back to the surface and turned slightly to face someone coming through the crowds of people.

Remus emerged, amber eyes unnaturally bright as he realised the person his wolf saw as cub was standing close to a dangerous foreign Alpha. Harry took hold of the situation before it could deteriorate, quickly moving to Remus’ side and embracing the werewolf.

Remus hugged Harry close before protectively pushing him behind his own body as he confronted Fenrir. The other werewolf prowled over, a predatory light in his eyes as he approached.

Remus actually snarled, the sound low and animal enough that only Harry and Fenrir picked it up under the hum of conversation around them. Harry grabbed Remus, enveloping the man in the scent of kin in order to appease his wolf.

The amber-eyed man turned his head to take in the scent, deep and heavy breathing indicating his struggle to maintain control. Fenrir seemed to find the situation quite humorous.

Harry glared at him, but that only increased his amusement.

‘Remus,’ Harry hissed, quickly wrapping his magic around them to deflect attention. Prying eyes slid off of the area of the reception hall they were standing in and Harry was able to relax slightly, safe in the knowledge that even if Remus lost control it wouldn’t make a scene.

‘Why did he approach you?’ Remus asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were still feral as they focused on the other werewolf.

Harry cut off his gaze by stepping in front of him, leaving his back exposed to Fenrir. Remus did not like that one bit, attempting to push Harry back behind him.

Losing his patience Harry nudged Remus’ hands away from him with his magic, leaving a sting in it to try and snap the older man out of his aggravated state. He backed away, standing in between the two wolves.

‘He was only being polite Remus,’ Harry said in a steady voice.

Fenrir thankfully remained silent.

After a few more deep breaths Remus finally seemed to calm himself, a faint hue of embarrassment on his face at his lapse in control.

Looking abashed he murmured, ‘I apologise.’

It was probably directed toward Harry, but Fenrir leapt into the conversation then, saying back, ‘No harm, no foul Lupin. I had not realised you saw the young Lord Consort here as Pack.’

‘His parents were Pack,’ Remus responded stiffly. ‘My wolf sees him as kin.’

There was a new interest in Fenrir’s eyes as he studied Harry, who had placed himself in the direct vicinity of an unstable werewolf without an ounce of fear. Not to mention the fact that he was Pack and kin to a werewolf.

‘It was a pleasure seeing you again, my Lord Consort,’ Fenrir murmured, bowing his head slightly before taking his leave.

Harry was initially taken aback at the action – the werewolf was an Alpha through and through and would not willingly give deference to just anyone.

He seemed to have made an impression on Fenrir Greyback.

* * *

 

It was nearing eight o’clock when Harry felt a tug on his magical core from his lover, signalling he wanted him to come to his side. Quickly making his excuses to the two elderly women he had been conversing with, Harry followed his senses to the Dark Lord.

Lord Voldemort was standing with Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, speaking to them both quietly. He halted his conversation though when he sensed Harry’s presence, crimson eyes locking on his fiancé with their usual intensity.

Harry offered his lover a subtle smile, and received a brush of affection through their magical core even whilst the Dark Lord’s face remained impassive.

‘I wanted you here before I announced dinner,’ Lord Voldemort explained. Harry quickly brushed down his clothing, smoothing the creases out and readjusted his unruly hair carefully.

Bellatrix cackled at his fussing, as he knew she would. Harry rolled his eyes, almost laughing out loud when he noticed Rodolphus mirroring the action.

When Harry was satisfied he took up a position to his fiancé’s right while Rodolphus stood beside him and Bellatrix stood to the left of the Dark Lord.

‘If I may have your attention,’ Lord Voldemort announced, his magically amplified voice carrying to all corners of the reception hall and causing conversations to cease immediately.

All eyes focused on the Dark Lord and his Consort.

‘Dinner is about to be served. If you would all make your way to the dining hall.’

The huge double doors connecting the two halls swung ponderously open, revealing a series of long tables that had been tastefully decorated. There was a raised dais where the Dark Lord and his Inner Circle would sit.

Harry placed his hand on his lover’s arm and walked confidently beside him as they moved through the guests, all respectfully bowing their heads as their leader and his fiancé passed by.

The rest of the Inner Circle followed behind them as they entered the dining hall and approached the dais.

When they reached their chairs Lord Voldemort moved Harry’s back for him, allowing his lover to be seated before taking his own seat. Lucius took the seat immediately to the Dark Lord’s left while Rodolphus and Bellatrix sat on Harry’s end. Severus and Bartemius were seated after Lucius down the table.

Once the Dark Lord, his fiancé and his Inner Circle were seated the rest of the guests found their places. At each table setting a small card proclaimed who was to be sitting there, in order to avoid any disagreements in who was sitting where.

Harry noticed Narcissa and Draco taking a seat at the table closest to the dais slightly below him, as they were warranted considering their status as the wife and son of one of the Inner Circle. Rabastan was also seated at their table, cobalt blue eyes fixated a little longingly on the dais table where he would have once sat.

Harry also spotted Daphne, her parents and her younger sister at the table. His friend looked stunning in an emerald gown that brought out the green in her hazel eyes. However she looked uncomfortable – she had been seated next to Theo. 

As he watched Daphne she looked up and caught his eye, offering a weak smile to her friend. ‘ _How are you going?’_ She mouthed discreetly.

Harry nodded slightly, indicating he was handling the night well. Daphne’s smile became genuine at that, her eyes crinkling slightly as they did when she was pleased.

He was distracted from further interaction by the Dark Lord rising to his feet again. The low hum of conversation ceased as it had before.

‘We gather here tonight on the longest night of the year.’

The Dark Lord’s voice was the only sound in the room besides the crackle of the many fireplaces lit to ward off the darkness and the chill of the winter night.

‘On this darkest of nights as we feast, be sure to give thanks for the blessings in each of your lives.’

Lord Voldemort paused as he allowed the command to register before regally raising his hands and announcing, ‘Let dinner be served.’

Food magically appeared, hundreds of unique dishes presented at each table. The house elves in the Citadel kitchens had outdone themselves.

As the room filled with the noise of clinking plates, cutlery and many different discussions, Lord Voldemort turned to his lover and said quietly just for Harry’s ears, ‘It is for your presence that I give thanks tonight.’

Harry’s heart clenched at the rare verbal affection and affirmation from his lover and he murmured back, ‘And I for your presence in my life.’

He squeezed Lord Voldemort’s hand under the table, and then turned to the dish in front of him to begin serving himself.

The Dark Lord did not require the human sustenance of food but he still placed some on his plate in recognition of the night. Likewise his goblet was filled with a fine red wine.

‘You have done very well to impress some notable people tonight,’ Lord Voldemort commented conversationally. Despite the nonchalance in his tone there was a deep pride Harry sensed through their magical core.

‘I can only hope I have managed to rationalise some of my actions to those who have doubted me,’ Harry replied demurely.

‘You have not only rationalised your actions but persuaded many of the benefits of your programs,’ the Dark Lord affirmed.

Harry ducked his head coyly as the pride he sensed intensified, mixed with a deeper undercurrent of affection and pleasure.

He was relieved everything had gone well, and now knew he could attend the ball the next night with confidence. Although there would be a bigger crowd at the ball, the most important people had been invited to the feast that night.

Harry suddenly sensed Nagini’s presence, and remembered he had promised her that morning that he would prepare something special for her as a meal. He knew the Dark Lord had sensed her also; he had straightened slightly in his chair.

She approached from behind, sinuously coiling up Harry’s chair and draping herself over his body. Rodolphus flinched slightly on Harry’s right, caught unawares with the huge snake’s presence.

There was an anxious mutter of voices down below the dais as some people began noticing the snake. But nobody descended into hysterics or anything of that sort; they were used to Nagini shadowing their Lord.

Alongside the tension many of them were feeling was a degree of respect for the Dark Lord’s Consort as he remained relaxed with a deadly snake coiling around him.  

**_‘Have you prepared my meal?’_** Nagini asked Harry, lifting her head to look him in the eye seriously.

**‘I’ve spoken to the house elves and they’ve arranged everything,’** Harry assured her.

She hissed with pleasure, and asked, **_‘Will we go now?’_**

Lord Voldemort cut in before Harry could answer saying, **_‘Harry is still needed here, my sweet. After the feast we will escort you down to the kitchens.’_**

Nagini reluctantly agreed to wait, settling in against Harry more comfortably.

‘I promised I would arrange something special for her to eat in return for her not hunting any of the guests tonight,’ Harry explained in response to his lover’s questioning gaze.

Rodolphus, having overhead the comment, snorted beside him.

‘I see,’ his lover responded.

Harry only grinned in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: My last exam is on the 15th, so after then I will be free to write and update!
> 
> Thank you for your patience,
> 
> Drops of Nightshade x


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Thank you again for your patience during this very busy time period in my life! And thank you also to those who wished me good luck on my exams – I believe I've done well.
> 
> Drops of Nightshade x

**Chapter Seven**

_The Citadel – Western Russia – Number 12 Grimmauld Place_

1997

* * *

 

The sun was dawning the following morning by the time Harry and the Dark Lord had retired to their private chambers. They had detoured to the kitchen before coming to their shared chambers, leaving an extremely pleased Nagini with a whole deer to eat. The house elves truly went above and beyond to assist in any way they could.

Eyes heavy with fatigue, and with a tired groan, Harry landed heavily on their bed.

**_'I can't believe we have to do all of this again tonight,'_** he hissed, blearily gazing at his lover who stood beside the bed.

**_'Feeling a bit tired?'_** the Dark Lord asked with a smirk. He remained disgustingly alert, as though he hadn't spent the whole night awake.

Harry glared at him and muttered, **_'Not all of us have the ability to perpetually stay awake.'_**

The Dark Lord's smirk deepened if that was even possible, his voice smug as he said, **_'I recommend you get as much sleep as possible. I'll be waking you at midday to go over the program for tonight.'_**

Harry glared harder at his lover, before making a show of turning away and settling in for sleep, pointedly ignoring the other man. He sensed, rather than saw, his lover raise an imperious eyebrow at the childish action.

**_'Are you ignoring me?'_** he asked in a frosty voice, which was entirely negated by the amusement resonating in their shared magical core.

**_'Yes,'_** Harry responded as regally as he could while lying down with his words muffled against the bedspread.

He was rewarded when the Dark Lord chuckled quietly, the sound unexpected and startling enough to cause Harry to lift his head in surprise and twist around to look at his lover. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed the Lord Voldemort laugh, but it was a rare occurrence.

It didn't escape Harry's knowledge that if they had not core bonded, then his lover may never have reached this level of emotional ability. The splitting of his soul would have eventually driven him to insanity and the eventual loss of any trace of humanity.

Harry grinned back at Lord Voldemort, overcome by the now familiar and warm sensation of affection within their shared core.

There was no need for words to be spoken, as the two moved in effortless coordination, meeting in the middle of the bed to share a kiss. It was passionate, triggering a rising interest in both of their bodies.

When Harry's hand wandered purposefully toward his lover's groin, a hot gleam in his emerald eyes, the Dark Lord pulled away with visible effort.

**_'You really do need to sleep,'_** he said regretfully, pulling the covers down from the bed. Before Harry could complain, Lord Voldemort had already lifted his body and deposited it at the head of the bed, swiftly tugging the comforter over his form with a twitch of magic.

Cocooned in the warmth of the bed, Harry already found his willpower fading as his exhaustion caught up with him.

**_'You never play fair,'_** he muttered sleepily, green eyes mere slits as he began to lose consciousness.

The curve of his lover's smile was the last thing he saw before finally succumbing to sleep.

* * *

 

Tonks and her two travelling companions were flying over a stretch of uninhabited hinterland when the medallion fixed to Alia Cross' broom let out a high-pitched hum. It began to glow, illuminating Alia's startled face.

Lake immediately gestured for everyone to descend, and the trio quickly lost altitude, landing on the icy grass below. The medallion continued to hum, vibrating slightly as it finally detected the Order were somewhere nearby.

Alia wasted no time in pulling her wand from her robes and began casting protective wards around them, in case the Order had scouts in the area. Lake disconnected the medallion from the broom handle and pulled out his own wand. Tapping the gold coin and muttering a spell under his breath, he watched intently as the medallion quivered and then jumped slightly to the east.

Tonks followed the direction and saw a dark expanse of forest marring the horizon. Lake also looked in that direction, eyes intent and purposeful.

'We've got them,' he said confidently.

'Don't be so hasty,' Alia snapped as she finished casting her wards. Tonks agreed with her; the Order could move at any moment, taking a Portkey to a new location.

'We should put the plan into motion immediately,' Lake argued back.

'If we make one wrong move now, our mission will fail,' Alia reminded him in a steely voice. Then she turned to Tonks, amber eyes pinning the other woman with their intensity.

'Do you remember your instructions?' she asked.

'Yes,' Tonks responded. Without needing further prompting she quickly rattled them off. 'I approach the Order with you posing as my prisoner. I assure them of my loyalty by any means necessary. If they do not already plan on doing so, I will encourage them to use Legilimency on you.'

The Dark Lord himself had spent hours painstakingly weaving complex webs of magic around Alia and Tonks' minds before they had left on the mission. When the Order's mind expert, Healer Cordell, looked into either of their minds he would find nothing that would expose their plan. Furthermore, the minute he touched Lord Voldemort's magic he would be implanted with a subtle compulsion spell. This would take root in his subconscious and would encourage him to begin undoing his mind manipulations on the Order members.

As more and more members would be freed from the mental control, they would begin to realise the depth of deception they had been subjected to.

If all went to plan, the Order would tear itself apart from the inside.

Lake would be ready for a signal that it was time, and would sweep in at the appropriate moment, with a prepared task force, to arrest the Order members. The Dark Lord had already secured permission from the Russian government to Portkey the British citizens en masse back onto their home soil.

The Russian Ministry were eager to appease Lord Voldemort, but they would not expend any resources on hunting the Order down themselves. When the time came, they would stand aside and turn a blind eye to whatever the Dark Lord saw fit to do on their soil.

'I suggest we put the plan into motion later this afternoon, after we go over it again,' Alia said reasonably.

Lake seemed to be chafing at the perceived waste of time, but he gave a reluctant nod of agreement at the suggestion.

'Alright then. Let's start with your story Tonks. Walk me through exactly what happened after you stopped impersonating Draco Malfoy…'

* * *

 

Remus walked into Number 12 Grimmauld Place in the early hours of the morning, stomach full from the Yule Feast and eyes itching with tiredness. He moved as silently as possible so as not to wake the other inhabitants of the house, closing the front door gently behind him.

Sirius had offered for Remus to stay with him over the next couple of days while he was attending the Yuletide celebrations, which he had gratefully accepted. Although Harry had offered to arrange a room for him in the Citadel, his wolf felt far more comfortable surrounded by a familiar environment and scents.

Padding on silent feet down the main corridor of the house, he noticed a light glowing under the kitchen door, indicating someone was still awake. Curious as to who was still up at the incredibly late hour, Remus went to investigate.

He found Sirius sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of Firewhisky by his side, looking haggard and drunk. The pureblood barely reacted to Remus' presence, bloodshot eyes regarding his werewolf friend dully.

'Sirius,' Remus murmured admonishingly.

'Remus,' he slurred back sardonically.

When Sirius reached for the bottle again, which Remus noted was near half empty, the werewolf leapt into action. Sliding onto the wooden bench beside the other man he determinedly stoppered the bottle and moved it away from the pureblood.

Sirius grunted with annoyance at the action but otherwise did not react in any other way.

'Talk to me,' Remus murmured softly. It pained him to see his old friend like this.

There was a long pause of silence, and Remus began doubting Sirius was going to say anything at all. Then he spoke, voice husky and words slurred from the liquor he'd been ingesting.

'I've never been good with kids,' Sirius began.

Remus disagreed with this; he's seen the other man interacting with Harry when he was a baby, and he'd been a natural. But he remained silent to allow the pureblood time to reveal what was eating at him.

'Sure I can entertain them, but I could never handle the serious stuff. Honestly, when James told me he and Lily wanted me to be Harry's godfather I thought he was joking.' Sirius laughed in a self-depreciating manner. 'I remember thinking how unlucky Harry was going to be if anything happened to his parents and he would be stuck with me. Merlin, I acted like a child most of the time myself, so how was I going to be a role model for an impressionable kid?'

'And then Lily and James did die…Harry became my responsibility. But he was taken away from me. Merlin…the things he went through…' Sirius choked off, burying his face in his hands.

Remus' heart ached, both for Harry and for his friend.

'I tried so hard Remus. You know how hard I tried to get him back,' Sirius was desperate, greyish-blue eyes imploring Remus to understand. 'I didn't even know where they'd put him, who was looking after him.'

'When I heard he'd been bought by Rabastan Lestrange, that he'd been trained at Aphrodite's- I was furious Remus. I wanted to rend that man limb from limb for touching my godson.' Sirius was nearly spitting with fury now. Then a devastating sadness seemed to come over him. 'But the person I truly hated was myself. For failing him. For failing James and Lily.'

'You did what you could,' Remus said softly but firmly. 'You cannot change what has happened in the past. But now you are a part of Harry's life. You can protect him.'

Sirius laughed again hoarsely at that. When he spoke his voice was thick with derision.

'He's getting _married,_ Remus. I'm not sure who would murder me first, James or Lily, for allowing it.'

'Neither would,' Remus responded curtly. 'We both know they would want Harry to marry the person he loves. Which he is. Yes he is young, but he is legally an adult and able to make his own choices. Don't forget, James and Lily married young.'

'They were the same age!' Sirius argued back. 'Who knows how old exactly the Dark Lord is? He could be older than both you and I combined!'

Remus winced at that, because Sirius did have a point. Although the Dark Lord physically resembled someone in their early thirties, or even late twenties, he had undeniably been around for a very long time.

Yet Harry had been placed in a rather unique situation by core bonding with Lord Voldemort. The young man had not exactly spoken about it, the subject being understandably sensitive, but Remus was aware that the bonding would significantly lengthen Harry's lifetime.

Truly, there was no other person on Earth who was better suited as a life companion for Harry, considering every other person would one day age and die.

'Harry loves him. No one is pressuring him into this marriage. It is…enough for me,' Remus murmured.

And it was.

Sirius gazed back at the werewolf, eyes despondent.

'I wish it was enough for me also. I have offered my blessing to Harry, and I will give my consent at his wedding. But…I don't think I will ever truly approve of their union.'

Remus nodded in understanding. He himself still had reservations, but could see how happy the Dark Lord made Harry. There was no doubt in Remus' mind that Lord Voldemort would do everything in his power to protect and provide for the young man.

Sirius saw this too, but was tangled in lingering feelings of failure, anger and regret. A part of him would always wonder if, in a different life, Harry could have had a normal childhood. Could have found happiness and love with someone his own age.

'Can I trust you will find your way to bed?' Remus asked Sirius sternly.

The pureblood smiled faintly at his friend, and murmured back, 'Eventually.'

Clasping Sirius on the shoulder briefly, Remus moved away to the door, stopping to pick up the alcohol and replace it in the cabinet with the other liquors.

Before he exited Sirius said quietly, 'You're a good man Remus.'

Turning back, Remus replied, 'You are too Sirius. One of the best.'

Leaving the man there to absorb that, Remus left the room for his waiting bed.

* * *

 

The guests for the Yule Ball had been steadily arriving at the Citadel over the past hour, but Harry and the Dark Lord were yet to make an appearance. They were to make a grand entrance once most of the guests had arrived.

Harry was still tired from the lack of sleep the night before, but there was nothing a little Pepper Up potion couldn't fix. He also had a team of expert stylists who would ensure he was looking nothing less than perfect for the night.

Tugging on the collar of his dress robes a little to earn a bit more breathing space, Harry waited beside his lover in front of two sealed double doors that would lead them down to the ballroom. The low hum of conversation from within the room indicated a huge number of guests were there that night. Of course, anyone who was invited to the ball were bound to go – all eager to see the Dark Lord and his future Consort.

**_'Are you ready?'_** Lord Voldemort asked his lover, crimson eyes studying the young man beside him.

**_'Yes,'_** Harry replied with certainty. He placed his hand on his fiancé's arm and prepared himself for what was to come.

Lord Voldemort nodded at the house elf waiting respectfully to the side, and the little creature snapped her fingers. The two doors swung open in tandem and the light within the room beyond shifted to focus on the entrance, creating a pocket of light in front of the doors.

As the duo stepped forward into the spotlight a hush fell over the crowd. Heads turned upwards to fixate on the stunning couple. They were standing on a raised dais with a flight of stairs proceeding down to the assembled guests. Harry kept his gaze straight ahead, palms feeling sweaty under the scrutiny of so many pairs of eyes.

'Thank you for coming this evening,' the Dark Lord began. He did not need to amplify his voice – he commanded complete silence from his guests by virtue of his mere presence.

'My fiancé and I would like to extend our gratitude to you all, for your support over this past year. Please enjoy the evening's festivities.'

The Dark Lord was renowned for his brief speeches, which nevertheless still carried impact.

An enthusiastic applause followed his announcement, and the same house elf that had opened the doors signalled the orchestral band to begin playing. As a swell of music began, Harry and the Dark Lord proceeded down the stairs.

It was tradition for the host to take someone onto the dance floor for the first dance of the night. In the past he would have taken Bellatrix, Narcissa or another important Lady for a partner. But now he had a future Consort who would one day rule by his side.

The guests parted for the duo to walk through, bowing their heads respectfully. Harry was too nervous to pay any attention to the people he was walking by, eyes fixed straight ahead. But he made sure to keep his demeanour humble so as to avoid people thinking he was haughty.

Space was made in the centre of the room, where the Dark Lord led his fiancé. The orchestral music quietened as the conductor prepared to signal the start of the first dance number.

Harry turned to face his fiancé, feeling a sense of security when the Dark Lord placed a steadying hand on his waist. They settled into position, and Harry took a deep breath, relaxing his body. He had practiced this so many times with Daphne and Draco; it was like second nature to him now.

When the music rose up once more Harry felt his feet taking him along with the rhythm of the music, confidently following his lover's lead. They had danced many times before together, but tonight it was different.

This time he was holding his own, and it made all the difference.

He could sense his lover's intrigue and pride as they made their way around the ballroom, clearly wondering how Harry had improved his dancing so significantly.

All too soon the dance was over, and Harry blinked in surprise when applause came from the surrounding guests.

**_'You have improved,'_** his lover noted quietly, beside Harry's ear as they came to a halt.

**_'You can thank Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy,'_** Harry hissed back.

Other couples were now taking to the dance floor, a new musical number beginning as Harry and the Dark Lord exited the floor and walked toward two chairs that overlooked the dance floor on a slightly raised dais.

Settling down in one of the chairs, Harry couldn't keep the pleased smile from his face. A house elf approached bearing two flutes containing champagne, which the Dark Lord accepted. He passed one to Harry and kept the other for himself, taking a reserved sip whilst his red eyes scanned the ballroom.

Harry noticed Draco escorting Daphne onto the dance floor, the two easily falling into the dance number. Both looked wonderful, Draco wearing a set of dress robes styled in the latest cutting edge fashion, and Daphne in an elegant dark green gown.

Draco murmured something to Daphne, causing her to grin back at him and laugh, the two blondes moving in graceful harmony with one another.

Harry was suddenly struck by how well they both complemented each other. They would have made a remarkable couple.

Apparently he was not the only person in the room to notice the well-paired duo; Theodore Nott was standing on the edges of the dance floor, eyes fixed intently on the two as they waltzed together.

Harry could not properly see his expression from the distance where he sat, but judging from the young man's body language, he was upset.

**_'What has caught your attention?'_** the Dark Lord murmured, watching Harry curiously.

Rather than answering the question, Harry instead asked, **_'Why do purebloods still arrange their children's marriages?'_**

The Dark Lord was not visibly surprised by the abrupt question but Harry sensed it nonetheless.

Red eyes scanned his younger lover's face before he carefully chose his answer.

**_'It has always been an important aspect of pureblood tradition. Parents are able to select a partner for their child that will ensure a strong bloodline.'_ **

Harry understood that, and respected the fact that lineage was crucial in pureblood society. Yet the practice still felt like a backwards custom of a bygone era.

**_'What if the child wishes to marry into a different pureblood family, one their parents have not considered?'_** Harry asked curiously.

**_'Then alternative arrangements can be made. If all families are willing, an alternative betrothal contract can be drawn up,'_** the Dark Lord explained. He looked Harry in the eye and said in a serious tone, **_'The wishes of the child are taken into account. If they are truly opposed to the partner their parent's choose, they can contest it.'_**

Harry tore his gaze away from those red eyes, glancing back to the dance floor where his friends waltzed comfortably in each other's arms. Lord Voldemort followed his line of sight.

**_'Daphne Greengrass is betrothed to the Nott heir,'_** he commented. Harry knew then that his lover had already realised why Harry had been asking about arranged marriages.

**_'Is she opposed to the union?'_** the Dark Lord asked, astutely identifying the core of the problem.

**_'Yes, but it's more complicated than that,'_** Harry murmured, struggling to explain the situation in a way that would make sense to his lover. **_'She is opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage.'_**

Lord Voldemort dipped his head slightly in understanding, and Harry felt a rush of relief that his lover accepted this as a reasonable reaction.

**_'If she contests this union, her parents will just pair her with someone else, who she will likely not even know,'_** Harry explained. He felt a pang of sympathy low in his gut for his friend.

**_'I believe Miss Greengrass would benefit from speaking to Bellatrix regarding this matter,'_** the Dark Lord announced. Harry blinked in surprise, distracted from his worry for Daphne.

'Bellatrix?' he asked in confusion, slipping out of Parseltongue in his surprise.

'You called?' the woman herself asked, startling Harry has she stalked soundlessly up behind him where he was seated. He has been so engrossed in the conversation with his lover, that he had not even noticed her magical presence approaching.

Lord Voldemort was unaffected by her sudden appearance, clearly having sensed her coming. Nothing seemed to escape his notice.

'I was suggesting to the Lord Consort that you might be a suitable candidate to discuss the issue of arranged marriage with the Greengrass heiress,' the Dark Lord stated.

Harry was still lost as to how Bellatrix could provide insight on the matter when she purred, 'Ah yes, one of my nephew's little friends. Arranged marriage you say? I would be delighted to speak with her,' Bellatrix said, a slightly manic grin in place.

Obviously reading Harry's continued confusion, the Dark Lord said, 'Bellatrix was originally betrothed to Lucius Malfoy.'

Harry tried not to react to that, but some of his shock must have bled through, because Bellatrix tossed her wild black curls back, and laughed throatily.

'Yes, it's a little hard to picture isn't it?' she cackled. 'The arrangement was an unpleasant idea for both of us. It didn't help that Cissy was disgustingly smitten with him.'

'Bellatrix and Lucius both contested the union and it was dissolved. Narcissa was suggested as a new candidate to marry him,' Lord Voldemort continued.

'Did your parents then arrange for you to marry Rodolphus?' Harry questioned, coming to the logical conclusion.

'No they did not,' Bellatrix murmured, smile now as sharp as a knife's edge. 'I had just graduated from Hogwarts – I was not going to be tied down in marriage so soon. So I found a loophole.'

Harry was struck then with the reminder that for all Bellatrix was uncontrolled and a touch mad, she was still a highly intelligent and resourceful witch.

'My Lord had almost gained complete control over the Ministry,' Bellatrix murmured, casting an admiring glance toward Lord Voldemort. 'Most of the pureblood families had already pledged allegiance to his cause. I just decided to take it a step further.'

'Bellatrix swore an Oath of Fealty to me,' the Dark Lord stated. His crimson eyes held a hint of pride for his follower. 'She was barely eighteen, but bold enough to request an audience with me. I was…intrigued by her enthusiasm.'

Harry's lips quirked in a smile at that, imagining his lover's reaction to first meeting such a brash and wild young woman. He was also stunned by the admission that Bellatrix had committed to an Oath so young.

It was a serious undertaking, one that was almost on par with an Unbreakable Vow. The Oath bound the one making the pledge to lay down their life for their Lord, to dedicate themselves entirely to their Lord's cause. If the Lord died, so too did the one who had made the Oath.

Harry knew each of the Inner Circle members had made the Oath to the Dark Lord at some point during their lives, but he had never realised Bellatrix had done it so early. 

'My Oath to my Lord took precedence over my loyalty to my parents and family duty,' Bellatrix explained. Her dark eyes glinted with satisfaction. 'Only my Lord could command me to marry. Which would never happen, because there was important work to be done.'

'When Bellatrix came to me twelve years later, announcing her desire to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, I consented to their union,' the Dark Lord finished.

Harry's mind for whirring with all of the new information he had received, already formulating a plan to help Daphne out of her predicament. But he was hesitant, because it would mean his friend would have to make a huge commitment in the form of the Oath.

He knew he and his lover had discussed the possibility of Harry having his own Inner Circle, but he had believed he would have much more time to breach the topic with his friends.

Casting his gaze back to the dance floor once more, he saw Draco giving Daphne a final spin before relinquishing his hold on her. He escorted her off the dance floor, the two making their way further into the crowd, no doubt in search of other school friends. Theo was no longer in sight, apparently having moved on at some point.

**_'Wait until the end of Yuletide to present your plan to her,'_** Lord Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue once more. **_'Give yourself time to consider it carefully.'_**

**_'You're right,'_** Harry hissed back, taking his lover's nearest hand and holding it tightly. For a moment their eyes locked, slipping into a space where their focus was entirely occupied by the other. 

'I will take this as my cue to leave,' Bellatrix quipped, grin back in place.

With a half-mocking sweep of her gown she dropped slightly into an absurd curtsey. 'My Lords,' she purred.

Then she was gone, leaving as swiftly as she had come.

Watching her stalk through the crowd, probably in search of her husband, Harry couldn't help the laughter bubbling up from within his chest. The woman was an absolute contradiction; deadly respectful at times and yet also unafraid to mock her superiors.

**_'I believe it is time for us to return to the dance floor,'_** the Dark Lord stated, amusement lurking somewhere in his crimson eyes after their encounter with Bellatrix.

Taking his fiancé's proffered hand, Harry rose to his feet, preparing himself for an exhausting night ahead. Once he was back on the dance floor, the requests to dance with him would probably never end.

Chin up, and with a polite smile fixed on his face, Harry entered the social fray once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Hope that wasn't too much of an information dump and/or too rapid in terms of plot development. I have been struggling so much with writing this chapter! I actually finished it a couple of weeks ago, but then completely scrapped it and started again.
> 
> Some serious writer's block over here. Not sure when the next update will come, because of this.  
> As always, I appreciate your patience, support and lovely comments!
> 
> Thanks,  
> Drops of Nightshade x


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: On my profile page on Fanfiction.net I have set up a poll regarding Daphne and potential pairings. I would like to know whether you would prefer her to remain single for the duration of this story or if you would like to see her paired with another character.
> 
> Feel free to let me know in the comments or via the poll on Fanfiction.net. You'll find me under the same name!
> 
> Thanks,   
> Drops of Nightshade x

**Chapter Eight**

_The Citadel_

_1997_

* * *

 

Surreptitiously casting a wandless spell to ease the pain in his feet, Harry tried not to grimace as he was asked to dance yet again. The requests had been steadily coming all night, and he was almost exhausted.

The elderly pureblood woman who had approached him was quite gracious though, and so Harry swallowed down his disgruntlement and took her hand with a smile.

Nowadays it was considered entirely normal for females to ask male partners to dance, as commonly as males asked females the same.

The woman, whom had introduced herself as Lady Karmont, was an excellent dancer yet her true talent clearly lay in her conversation skills.

As Harry gently led her around the dance floor she effortlessly engaged him in a discussion on a book they realised they had both recently read. She was fluent and passionate when highlighting her favourite sections, and Harry was able to forget his tiredness entirely as they conversed.

After the song had finished Harry almost regretfully allowed her to part ways, as she had spied her son on the other side of the room.

Before she departed she took Harry's hand in her own, slightly weathered one, and told him gently that he was a, 'fine young man.' With an absent pat, she relinquished her hold on him and gracefully melted into the crowd once more.

Blinking in surprise at the kind words, Harry had only been able to mumble a quick thank you before the woman had departed.

'Lady Karmont often has that affect on people,' a slightly familiar voice commented from behind Harry.

Turning around to face the person speaking, Harry immediately recognised Healer Wright, the sharp-tongued woman who had supervised Harry's practical experience in the maternity ward a few weeks previously.

She was dressed in her Healer robes, and held a flute of champagne loosely in one hand.

He knew that many of the high-ranking medical professionals had been invited to the ball, but he hadn't thought he would encounter any, what with the high volume of people present.

'Healer Wright,' Harry acknowledged, automatically reaching for her hand to greet her in the proper pureblood fashion.

She pinned him in place with a hot-eyed glare and said acerbically, 'I would advise against doing that.'

Harry offered her a grin, remembering her hatred of protocols and the pureblood obsession over titles and etiquette. Then he held his hand out for a neutral hand clasp.

With lips slightly pursed, Healer Wright took his hand. Harry ignored the whispers around them as other guests noticed the unusual greeting.

'You know Lady Karmont?' Harry asked the middle-aged woman curiously.

Wright raised an eyebrow disbelievingly at Harry and asked dryly, 'You didn't notice her name above the doors to the maternity ward? She near single-handedly established and funded that wing of the hospital.'

Harry blushed embarrassedly at his own ignorance, insides twisting slightly at the realisation that he had not even properly acknowledged the pureblood woman's importance when they had danced together.

'She's also a good friend of mine,' Healer Wright stated. Her brown eyes swiftly documented Harry's mortification and she added pointedly, 'Like myself, she doesn't hold much credence in proper decorum. Relax kid.'

Harry let out a subtle breath; relaxing slightly at the older woman's assurance that Lady Karmont preferred a more causal approach.

'What convinced you to come tonight?' Harry asked, changing the topic. He would have thought Wright would have avoided social events like the plague.

'Free food,' she responded without pause, taking a smug sip of her champagne and then smiling in her usual shark-like manner.

Harry laughed at her unabashed confession and replied, 'Fair enough.'

As they continued to speak, their conversation moving to Harry's practical experience, a considering look began to develop on Healer Wright's face.

'I have to ask Potter,' she began, referring to him as she had when she had supervised him. 'What are you planning on doing once you graduate?'

Before Harry could open his mouth to reply she cut him off and said, 'Don't bother mentioning your wedding – the whole of bloody Europe knows about that.' A serious expression came over her face and her tone changed slightly as she asked, 'What do you want to do for a career?'

Harry stopped and really thought about that question.

Past getting married, he hadn't really considered anything besides selecting an Inner Circle. He knew he would be busy assisting the Dark Lord with matters of state, and continuing to make changes in the political sphere, but he had never really seen himself pursuing an actual career.

Watching the young man truly consider her question, Healer Wright said in an unusually soft and sincere voice, 'You have talent, Potter. I saw it, while I was supervising you on the ward.' Tilting her head to the side, as if weighing him up, Healer Wright said, 'I would be happy to write a letter of recommendation for you, if you were thinking about a career in Healing.'

'Thank you,' Harry said honestly, green eyes conveying the deep gratitude he felt toward Healer Wright. She was an unapologetically fierce woman, and when she gave out praise, she meant it.

'I haven't really given it much thought…' Harry explained tentatively. When he received no judgment from this statement he continued saying, 'But I'll keep in mind what you said, and your offer.'

'Make sure you do, Potter,' she said, still serious. Then her countenance changed once more and she said rather genially, with a gesture to her now empty flute glass, 'If you'll excuse me, I need to go and find myself a refill.'

Harry bade her goodbye, left with a considerable amount to think about.

* * *

 

'Harry!' Daphne Greengrass hissed discreetly from the private alcove she had secreted herself away in. Draco was leaning against the wall next to her, grey eyes expressing mild annoyance as he surveyed the loud, and in some cases, drunk guests before him.

Quickly spotting them after reaching out with his power to detect their magical signatures, Harry stealthily cast a charm around himself to go unnoticed by the other guests as he made his way through their midst.

Eyes slid unseeingly off of him as he weaved hurriedly through the finely dressed guests to reach his friends.

'Thank Merlin,' Draco muttered once Harry was safely in the alcove with the two of them. 'We thought you were never going to be left alone.'

Casting another ward to deflect attention away from the alcove, Harry grinned tiredly at the two blondes. Daphne pulled him into a tight embrace, pulling back slightly to examine his face.

'You've been doing so well,' she complimented him proudly.

'He had two brilliant teachers,' Draco interjected smugly.

'I did,' Harry stated, smiling gratefully at both of his friends. 'If it weren't for you two, I would have made a complete fool of myself in the first half hour of the night.'

'I saw you dancing with Lady Karmont,' Daphne said excitedly.

'What?' Draco asked. 'When?'

'She approached me earlier on in the night – I had no idea who she was,' Harry admitted.

Daphne winced in sympathy and Draco exclaimed, 'You didn't do anything stupid did you?'

Daphne narrowed her hazel eyes at the other blonde, giving him a reproving slap on his shoulder.

'Have a little faith, Draco,' she said reproachfully. Then she looked at Harry with worried eyes and asked tentatively, 'You didn't do anything to offend her?'

'How come everyone seems to know her, but me?' Harry complained instead of immediately answering the question.

'She hates media attention,' Draco explained. 'Photos and reports on her are extremely rare.'

'What did you talk about?' Daphne pressed.

'We discussed a book we had both read. She was really nice. After we had finished dancing she told me I was a 'fine young man' and then left,' Harry stated.

'That's fantastic,' Daphne breathed. 'She must have really liked you.'

Draco nodded in agreement, looking quite impressed.

Harry felt bolstered by their support, unable to help the smile that lingered on his face. It had only been little over a year since he had met them both, but he felt like he had known them both for far longer than that.

Their presence in his life, combined with Luna's eccentric company, Hermione's steadfast loyalty and the twins' return, went a long way toward mending the hole in his life from the absence of the rest of his foster family.

He knew he had agreed with his lover to wait until the end of Yuletide to formally present his plan to Daphne, of having her pledge an Oath to him, but he felt the time was right to address the matter of his Inner Circle.

'I have something important to discuss with both of you,' Harry started, noting both blondes straighten imperceptibly.

'My Lord and I have decided that once I am officially Lord Consort, I will select an Inner Circle to advise me.'

Daphne and Draco gave nothing away as they watched him, but Harry knew both of their minds would be working furiously to process the new information.

Harry hesitated slightly; aware that one or both could refuse his offer. Draco in particular had good reason to decline; he could one day be selected for the Dark Lord's Inner Circle, to replace his father once he was ready to retire from active duty.

'I would like both of you to be a part of my Inner Circle. I know we have not known one another for very long, but I trust both of you with my life, and I value each of you highly.' Harry swallowed in his dry throat.

'Do you accept?'

'Of course,' Daphne spoke first, hazel eyes warm. 'I would be honoured, Harry.'

'Thank you,' he replied, grasping her hands briefly in his own, before letting go and turning to Draco.

The other blonde was thinking hard, judging by the serious look on his face. Daphne watched him too, not judging him for his hesitation, but waiting patiently for his decision.

'I understand you are lined up for inheriting your father's position in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle,' Harry assured Draco. 'Whether you advise me, or my Lord, it makes no difference.'

That was a small lie; even though Harry would be happy that Draco was involved in any way, what he truly wanted was for Draco to be one of his own supporters. Perhaps it was his lover's possessive tendencies bleeding through their shared link, but Harry wanted Draco to choose him.

'That is true,' Draco responded to Harry's previous statement. He looked Harry squarely in the eye and stated, 'But I choose to counsel you. I am sure my father will understand.'

'Thank you, Draco,' Harry said, moving forward to envelope the taller man in a hug. Draco was slightly stiff, very much so like Narcissa when being shown physical affection.

But his arms eventually wound around Harry's smaller frame and he returned the hug. When they separated, Daphne was beaming at them both. Draco looked a little flustered.

'We're going to be unstoppable,' Daphne declared boldly, slinging an arm around each of her boys.

Harry laughed at her statement, but a part of him resonated with what she had said.

With his Inner Circle by his side, he would truly be equal to his lover.

* * *

 

In the early hours of the morning the ball began winding down as guests began to depart from the Citadel, eyes heavy with fatigue.

Only a few brave couples, swaying gently to the music, occupied the dance floor. The rest of the guests were gathered in small groups, conversing with one another under the swell of music from the orchestra.

Harry stood slightly on the edges of one of these groups, most of his attention occupied by Remus. The werewolf had arrived quite late to the ball, but Harry appreciated his presence immensely, as he was someone Harry could converse with easily. 

The sudden gasp of the young woman to his left had Harry turning sharply to look at her, green eyes quickly scanning the area for danger.

But her eyes were only focused on one of the other guests across the room.

Not having realised she had attracted the attention of the future Lord Consort, the young woman hissed to her friend next to her, 'Clarissa, look who showed her face!'

Her friend, Clarissa apparently, followed the other woman's gaze and let out a dramatic gasp of her own.

Harry was entirely confused at what had gotten both women so worked up. Remus echoed his bafflement, the werewolf observing silently like Harry from the side.

The person who had drawn the attention of the two young women was another female, looking to be somewhere in her mid twenties. There was nothing particular remarkable about her.

She was pretty enough, with her light brown hair swept up into a coiffed hairstyle. Her dress was modestly designed, the dark colour flattering against her pale skin. A significantly older male stood by her side, slightly plump in stature and greying at the temples.

One of his pudgy hands was wrapped around the younger woman's waist, signalling that they were there as a couple.

Assuming that the age difference between the two was not what had drawn the shock from the two other women, Harry continued to eavesdrop subtly, as did Remus.

'Professor Croaker must have brought her as his guest,' Clarissa commented.

'She's been sleeping with him for the past six months; I suppose he was bound to bring her to a social event eventually,' the other woman added snidely.

'Shameful of her, sullying the reputation of a distinguished Ministry man such as the Professor,' Clarissa tutted. 

About to turn his attention away from the two women, dismissing their conversation as cruel gossip, Harry was shocked down to his core at the next statement.

'You'd think after what her brother did to the Dark Lord's fiancé, Smith wouldn't dare show her face in polite society again.'

There was some sort of a response after that, but Harry didn't hear it because his head was filled with a sort of numbing white noise. He distantly felt Remus' hand gripping his arm tightly, his voice quiet as he asked if Harry was okay.

Through their shared magical core, Harry felt a probe from his lover, obviously registering Harry's shock and wanting to know what had caused it.

Taking a deep breath to get a grip of himself, Harry offered Remus a weak smile and assured the man he was fine. Remus' amber eyes were concerned. He had clearly heard what the two women had mentioned.

Reaching through his shared magical core, Harry sent assurance and calm toward his lover, who was somewhere in the hall nearby, but blocked from view by the other guests.

The Dark Lord eventually withdrew his presence, but not before nudging Harry's side of the core with purpose. Harry got the message; they would be discussing the incident at the end of the night.

Remus placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder and suggested, 'Let's go get some fresh air on the balcony.'

Nodding in agreement, Harry and the werewolf made their way to the tall doors that led outside. A house elf nodded in greeting, opening the doors with a snap of his fingers.

The outside area had been layered with mild heating charms, so that the cold would not be too bitter. There were a number of other people utilising the space, most locked together in intimate embrace.

Finding an empty section of the balcony, Harry leaned against the balustrade, looking out over the snow-covered expanse of the Citadel's grounds. There was something beautiful and lonely about the view that calmed him.

Remus leaned next to him, sharing in the quiet stillness of the moment.

Harry was still reeling from the realisation that the young woman with the pale brunette hair was Zacharias Smith's older sister.

He had been aware that Smith had a family, but after the attempted rape, Harry recalled the family had disowned Smith and severed their ties.

He still felt a great deal of anger and hatred toward Smith, for the bullying he had subjected Harry to, and for almost raping him.

Yet Smith's execution over a year ago still affected Harry, in a number of unexpected ways. It was mostly due to the violent and prolonged suffering Smith had endured during his execution, where a quick death would have been far more humane.

Harry was also plagued by a feeling in his conscience that cried out against issuing death for a crime. Not to mention the fact that Smith had been a minor.

A life sentence in Azkaban would have sufficed.

Maybe then Smith's sister would still have a little brother.

Harry let out a shaky breath, furiously wiping away the moisture in his eyes. There was no reason for him to still be agonising over what happened to Smith.

The presence of his sister that night had brought all of his doubt and hurt back to the surface.

Again, Harry felt the presence of his lover hovering on the periphery of his awareness, as though waiting for the moment Harry called for him. But Harry didn't want to cause his lover any inconvenience – he would wait until the end of the night.

Remus placed a hand once more on Harry's shoulder, and this time the green-eyed man melted into the werewolf's embrace, accepting the support that was freely given.

He felt Remus scenting him, assuring his inner wolf that his cub was safe, and that all was well.

Snow began falling, flakes drifting in an ethereal fashion from the sky to the white blanket below. Wrapped in the werewolf's warm embrace, Harry turned his head slightly to watch the soothing sight.

As Lord Consort, there would be many difficult choices for him to make in the future. Sometimes those choices would conflict with his moral code.

He had the freedom to make his own choices, but never the freedom to choose the consequences.

It was an inescapable fact of life.

Harry would learn to live with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Don't we all? Hope you all enjoyed the chapter.  
> This is not the end of Miss Smith – her character will appear again in future chapters.  
> Sorry about the lack of Lord Voldemort/Harry, I hope there will be more in the next chapter.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!  
> Drops of Nightshade x


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: I am so sorry for the extended delay with this chapter! This semester has been very intense, and I’ve had no time to write. There is a slight lull for me before my exams start, so I’m relieved I could get this update out! 
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know, I have released a one shot titled, “Alternate Universe: The Consort”, which is dedicated to my readers who wanted mpreg in ‘The Consort’, but were disappointed when I decided not to include it. 
> 
> It’s set ten years after the end of ‘The Courtesan’ and is in a slightly different universe and timeline where male pregnancy is established.
> 
> If you’re a fan of mpreg, go and check it out!
> 
> Thank you again for all of your patience,   
> Drops of Nightshade x

**Chapter Nine**

_The Citadel – Western Russia_

_1997_

* * *

 

In the safety of their shared chambers, closeted away from prying eyes, Harry finally told his lover what had been troubling him. The Ball had officially concluded, with the last few lingering guests escorted from the venue.

Lord Voldemort’s response was anger, crimson eyes flashing with his ire after Harry informed him Zacharias Smith’s older sister had been present at the celebrations.

Expecting this reaction, Harry was quick to soothe his lover’s temper, wrapping his arms around the taller man and tucking himself firmly against the tense body before him.

Sending a wave of calm through their shared magical core Harry hissed, **_‘Don’t be angry. She didn’t approach me. I overheard a couple of women mention her family name and made the connection.’_**

**_‘She should not have been there,’_** the Dark Lord insisted. Despite the calm Harry was projecting, he was still stiff and angered.

Harry frowned disapprovingly at his fiancé, emerald eyes imploring crimson ones to listen to what he had to say. ‘ ** _How long must she be punished for the actions of her brother? She had nothing to do with his crime and yet she carries the burden of it.’_**

After a moment Lord Voldemort finally relaxed, the tension easing out of his body as he brushed a strand of raven hair from Harry’s face.

**_‘You’re right,’_** he admitted eventually in a rare admission of fault.

Harry’s frown melted away to be replaced by a gentle smile that was only for his lover.

**_‘I know you are just trying to protect me,’_** he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the older man’s lips in a silent thank you.

**_‘I sense you still have more news for me,’_** the Dark Lord hissed, eyes curious as he observed his younger fiancé.

**_‘I haven’t presented my plan to Daphne yet,’_** he assured his lover. He had promised to wait until he’d had more time to think it through. **_‘But I did offer positions in my future Inner Circle to her and Draco.’_**

**_‘They accepted?’_** the Dark Lord guessed astutely. There was no annoyance at having potentially lost Draco as one of his own future candidates. Satisfaction and a subtle hint of pride permeated their shared magical core.

**_‘Yes, they both did,’_** Harry replied, unable to help the grin from taking over his face.

**_‘Each are excellent choices,’_** Lord Voldemort complimented.

**_‘I know,’_** Harry responded boldly. His friends were capable and loyal individuals, who would bring valuable insight to his role as Lord Consort.

Tilting the shorter man’s chin up, Lord Voldemort seized his lips in a deep kiss. Harry was aware of the ache and fatigue in his body, but as they kissed he decided sleep could definitely wait.

Tugging his lover purposefully toward the bedroom, Harry moved the door open with wandless magic, feeling incredibly powerful as the Dark Lord followed him unhesitatingly.

Those strong hands took the time to reverently remove each article of Harry’s clothing, choosing a more intimate undressing rather than removing his clothes with magic.

Harry returned the favour, unbuttoning his fiancé’s dress robes with the ease of long practice. They were both soon bare, hands roaming comfortably over the familiar expanses of skin.

The Dark Lord’s hands were drawn to the precious amulet Harry wore around his neck. The younger man wore the unicorn’s talisman under his clothes whenever they were attending a public event such as the Ball that night.

It held significant importance for Lord Voldemort, because without it Harry would have likely died after the Order had kidnapped him a year ago. It protected Harry from magical attacks to both his body and mind, and was utterly invaluable.

If the Dark Lord had his way, Harry would never take it off, even when in a perfectly safe environment. But Harry was stubborn and unwilling to become so lax with his own abilities as to rely on the talisman for everyday protection. He also had no idea if the talisman would last indefinitely, and so made sure to only wear it sparingly.

After placing another lingering kiss to Lord Voldemort’s lips Harry pulled away, falling back on their bed, almost coy as he looked up his lover through dark lashes.

The Dark Lord took a moment to compose himself and savor the delicious view of pale smooth skin laid bare for him. When he took too long to come over, Harry reached for him impatiently, thighs parting as he tilted his hips upward invitingly.

Groaning at the sight the Dark Lord wasted no time in grabbing onto Harry’s hips to hold him steady. Pausing for a second to wandlessly lubricate the younger man, unable to waste any more time, he lined himself up and slid into the familiar tightness of his lover.

Harry tossed his head back and moaned, gripping onto Lord Voldemort’s shoulders tightly and digging his nails into his back as he dragged him even closer. He wrapped his legs securely around his fiancé’s hips.

The Dark Lord lowered himself to cover Harry’s body with his own, forcing Harry’s hips to tilt up further and take more of his cock, pressing in all the way to the hilt. Harry cried out as the new angle allowed his prostrate to be hit dead on.

Lord Voldemort set a fierce, pounding pace as he quickly pushed into his fiancé with deep powerful thrusts. Harry enjoyed the rougher treatment just as much as he liked the occasions when they took it slower.

Reaching down between them, the Dark Lord stroked Harry once, twice, and suddenly the younger man was coming, spurting into Lord Voldemort’s hand with a groan. The Dark Lord followed immediately after, his lover’s tight walls clenching around him and greedily milking his cock of every last drop.

Allowing himself a moment to collapse over Harry and cage him within his arms, the Dark Lord leaned in for a deep languid kiss. They shared in the warm sensation after sex, bodies beginning to cool down as sweat dried on their skin.

Lord Voldemort laid them both on their sides, caressing Harry’s bare stomach as they lay in contented silence with one another.

It had been such a busy period for the past week; they were both grateful to share in such a pleasurable, relaxing moment.

Placing a kiss on the back of Harry’s right shoulder blade, and then working his way up to his younger fiancé’s neck, Lord Voldemort allowed himself to sink into the feeling of warm satiation. It was an addictive feeling, one that he had only ever allowed for the powerful younger man resting in his arms.

Harry meanwhile was stealthily shielding his thoughts from his lover as he contemplated his planned birthday present for the Dark Lord. Narcissa had arranged for business to be taken care of for three days from the thirtieth to the first.

Harry couldn’t wait to surprise his lover with the present of three days holiday in the following week. He was confident Lord Voldemort would appreciate the gift over any material presents Harry could have purchased.

The holiday would be welcome before Harry had to return to Hogwarts for his final semester of schooling.

**_‘Sleep,’_** the Dark Lord murmured, as though sensing his lover’s brain working.

With a sleepy smile Harry nuzzled his head into the pillow beneath him and allowed himself to slip into sleep, safe in the arms of his lover.

* * *

 

Tonks tried not to allow her guilt and anxiety to bleed through the mask of confidence on her face as she sat before Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt.

They were in a tent sheltered from the bitter cold, in the heart of the Order’s encampment.

These were two people she had the utmost respect for, during most of her early formative years. Tales of their exploits had carried into many servile circles in Britain, and they had been figures of hope for Tonks and many others like her.

It was hard to believe that the duo had been allowing their followers to be subjected to mind manipulation. Tonks understood that they were desperate, but it was something so utterly against what she had believed was their moral code.

‘It is a relief to have you return to us Miss Tonks,’ Minerva said gladly. There were new lines weathering her face, and her shoulders seemed stooped under the weight of her responsibilities.

Standing silently beside her, Kingsley Shacklebolt made no comment. Tonks wondered what he was doing in the Order, now that there was no political sphere for him to work in.

‘I never thought I would find you again,’ Tonks replied honestly.

‘How did you find us, if I may ask?’ Minerva asked easily, yet there was a glint of suspicion in her hardened eyes. Nowadays, there seemed to be no trust given, even to seemingly stanch allies.

Tonks willingly pulled the medallion from her pocket, explaining how she had used a detection spell to track where they had gone. Minerva and Kingsley seemed impressed by Tonks’ resourcefulness and determination, yet the suspicion lingered in their body language.

Quick to assuage their wariness Tonks added, ‘Over the past few years I’ve had many opportunities to read the books in the Lestrange library. I memorised a few rare and obscure spells, anything that might help me escape and find you when the time was right.’

That seemed to relax them both, the explanation satisfying their doubt regarding how Tonks had managed to source such a complicated spell.

‘And the…companion you brought with you?’ Kingsley asked in his deep voice.

When Tonks had arrived in the Order’s encampment after being escorted in by sentries, Alia had been swiftly removed and taken somewhere unknown.

‘A Death Eater who almost caught me escaping from Lestrange Manor,’ Tonks explained. The lie rolled with ease off her tongue. ‘I managed to stun her with the wand I stole. I know I probably should have left her, but I figured she may have valuable information. I noticed she was a higher ranking Death Eater.’

Tonks allowed her explanation to come hurried, as though desperate to impress and please the two Order members.

‘It was incredibly risky taking her with you,’ Minerva stated, sternness seeping into her tone. Tonks didn’t need to fake the way she shrunk slightly. Then the older woman’s face lightened slightly as she added, ‘But she may very well have information that can be of use to us.’

‘Healer Cordell is already working on her, to see what she knows,’ Kingsley inputted.

Tonks suppressed a shudder that threatened to roll across her body in sympathy for Alia. Most witches and wizards had an ingrained terror of Mind Healers, especially ones that abused their abilities for interrogation and torture.

It was a relief to hear that she wouldn’t need to push the Healer to look into Alia’s mind. The Dark Lord’s magic may already be seeping into man’s head, subtly planting suggestions.

She just hoped Alia would survive the intrusion relatively unscathed.

‘There is unfortunately no chance for you to settle in – or to see your parents as I’m sure you want to. They have already gone on ahead to begin setting up our new location,’ Minerva said quite gently in spite of her brusque words.

Tonks was momentarily floored by the mention of her parents, whom she had not seen in years. Tears sprung to her eyes, which she tried to blink away to no avail.

Both Minerva and Kingsley appeared to visibly soften with sympathy for the young woman. So many within the Order had suffered the pain of being separated from family.

‘I understand,’ Tonks assured the two leaders.

The tent flap rustled to the side and Tonks turned slightly in the chair she was sitting in to see who had entered. She immediately recognised the beautiful woman entering the tent as Fleur Delacour, now an ex-ambassador of France and the person who had infamously kidnapped Harry Potter from Britain.

Tonks wondered if Cordell had influenced her or not. She was part-Veela, which gave her abilities of her own in manipulating people. But it offered her no protection from a similar attack.

‘Miss Delacour will guide you through the Portkey process and get you settled once we have changed locations,’ Minerva explained, nodding to the pale blonde-haired woman.

‘Madame Tonks, I ‘ave ‘eard much about you,’ Fleur said in accented English,

She held out a pale hand for Tonks to shake, and the Metamorphmagus did so after clumsily stumbling to her feet. She felt awkward and ungainly in the presence of the ethereal grace and beauty of the part-Veela.

‘And I’ve heard a lot about you,’ Tonks replied after shaking the other woman’s hand.

‘Come. I ‘ave much to show you,’ she said gesturing for Tonks to leave the tent.

With a respectful nod to both Minerva and Kingsley, Tonks departed the tent, Fleur close behind her.

As they walked through the camp, Tonks was struck by how little Order supporters there were. She knew some had already gone on ahead via Portkey to establish a new camp, but she estimated there were only thirty something members milling around the camp, packing up.

More supporters than she had expected had chosen to remain behind when the Order had fled, it seemed.

 ‘Just into this tent, Madame Tonks,’ Fleur instructed, indicating which one she wanted Tonks to enter.

‘Call me Tonks,’ the Metamorphmagus requested with a smile.

Fleur nodded in assent, and Tonks willingly entered the tent, remembering to duck down slightly to avoid hitting her head.

She paused in surprise at the sight before her.

There was a small crowd of people inside the tent, perhaps a little less than a dozen. She recognised immediately the prominent red hair, pale skin and freckles of the Weasley clan.

The tension in the room was palpable, stretched thin like sheet of ice about to crack.

Turning to face Fleur, who had her wand out and was swiftly warding the tent with magic, Tonks asked, ‘What is this?’

It was not the young woman who answered, but one of the Weasley children, if Tonks’ presumption was correct. He seemed to be one of the older sons judging by his height and the maturity on his face.

‘We are the only people left in the Order who are not under Cordell’s control.’

Looking on with dawning comprehension at the group of people, Tonks kept an eye on the part-Veela, who still had her wand out, and asked, ‘What do you want from me?’

No one responded this time, and their eyes seemed to turn to Fleur for guidance on how much to reveal. She was clearly the leader of the small group.

Coming to stand to Tonks’ left, wand still loosely held in her grip, Fleur said calmly, ‘We want you to ‘elp us bring down the Order.’

* * *

 

After a long sleep in the next morning after the Ball, Harry eventually roused himself from bed to clean up and get dressed. His lover had been long gone when Harry had woken up, the sheets cold and empty.

Harry wasn’t too bothered, because he knew the Dark Lord was busy dealing with the matters that had been pushed to the side while Yuletide had taken prominence.

Yawning deeply and blinking a little blearily, Harry sleepily prepared for the day, eating the covered meal that had been waiting for him in the dining room. The breakfast had been layered with a heating charm to keep it appetising.

Once he was officially Lord Consort he would begin accompanying his lover to the various meetings that were hosted in the Citadel. However Lord Voldemort had hinted that he wanted Harry to start shadowing him even earlier than that.

Harry had already accompanied the Dark Lord to a few of these meetings, mainly Inner Circle consultations.

Yet he felt ready for more than that. With the Inner Circle he was guaranteed to be listened to; no member, not even Snape, acted outwardly disrespectful to him. This was because he had proven his strength to them, and his worthiness to stand by their Lord’s side. They were also unwaveringly loyal to Lord Voldemort, and so Harry was treated respectfully by extension.  

Whilst he had made a positive impression on pureblood society during Yuletide, he knew they were no doubt still waiting for him to step wrong. Harry knew the next stage to demonstrate his competence would be to start appearing with his lover at more meetings and conferences.

He wanted to prove he wasn’t just the Dark Lord’s bed-warmer, but a leader in his own right. Maybe even a Healer one day, if he decided to go down that path. 

Feeling much more awake after a cup of coffee and a warm breakfast to start his morning, Harry was surprised when someone knocked on the door to the suite he and the Dark Lord shared.

Walking to the door, carefully reaching out with his power to read the magical signature of the person on the other side, Harry was pleased to discover it was Remus.

It made sense, as the werewolf was one of very few people who had the clearance to even set foot in this particular section of the Citadel.

Opening the door, Harry unhesitatingly pulled the man into a tight hug.

‘Remus! What brings you here?’ Harry asked as he allowed the werewolf into the suite, shutting the door behind him.

Remus was leaving that night to return to France and his pack. His chosen second in command, Athena, had been taking on responsibility in her Alpha’s stead.

Harry had only met the female werewolf once when she had accompanied Remus a few months previously to Britain. She had been rather intimidating with her muscles, dark eyed glare and no-nonsense expression.

‘I wanted to properly say goodbye before I left,’ Remus explained, standing a little awkwardly amongst the expensive décor of the room.

Harry looked at him knowingly, already sensing the man had also come to make sure he was okay from his break down the night before.

‘Would you like some tea?’ Harry asked, walking further into the suite toward the informal sitting area.

‘No, I’m fine thank you Harry,’ the werewolf said, following him.

Harry sat down in his favourite chair, lounging comfortably in front of the other man. He didn’t have to uphold appearances with the werewolf.

Remus sat down opposite him, and Harry noticed the subtle tension in his body as he did so.

Cocking his head to one side, and fixing his green eyes curiously on the werewolf, Harry wondered at what the cause of his rigidness was.

‘There is also a matter that I feel I need to discuss with you,’ Remus murmured, amber eyes betraying a hint of worry.

Sitting up a little straighter, Harry gave the man his full attention.

‘Is something wrong?’

Harry felt protective over the werewolf, who had been so kind and supportive of him in the past year.

‘It’s nothing affecting me,’ the man said quickly to assuage Harry’s concern, smile quirking his lips at the younger man’s protectiveness.

That smile faded as he looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap.

‘It’s about Sirius.’

Harry immediately shuttered off a bit. He liked his godfather, and genuinely wanted him to be a part of his life. But there was no denying that there were still many issues between the two of them.

Remus studied Harry’s reaction, a sad expression briefly flitting across his face. In another life, Harry might have enjoyed a close relationship with his godfather.

‘I felt the need to tell you, before I left, that Sirius is still working through some problems. And I’m not going to be here to look after him.’

Remus was truly a good man, and a loyal friend.

‘I’m not asking for any promises from you,’ he continued when Harry remained silent, reserving his judgment. ‘I just want you to keep in mind that he is still struggling. The world is changing around him, and I don’t think he’s ready yet to face it. ’

‘I understand,’ Harry said softly.

‘That’s all I need to know,’ Remus replied, lips quirked in a sad sort of smile.  

After Remus was gone, sent off with another tight hug and the promise of regular letters, Harry had time to contemplate what the man had said.

It occurred to Harry that most of his visits to Number 12 Grimmauld Place were to see Hermione, and now also the twins. Rarely, if at all, did he go there to solely see his godfather.

It would be hurting Sirius to see the effortlessly close relationship Harry shared with Remus, and with his foster-siblings. Guilt wormed its way into Harry’s stomach and his sense of compassion that his lover still found so alien, pressured him to find some way to remedy the situation.

Perhaps more frequent visits to see Sirius, or an invitation out? There was a Quidditch game between the Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United on that weekend. Harry had no doubt he could secure a couple of tickets, and surprise Sirius with the offer of a day out.

Decision made, Harry felt a little better. Sirius had the potential to become an integral part of Harry’s life, and he was willing to give him a real chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Sorry to end the Order scene in a bit of a cliff-hanger! You’ll find out next chapter who exactly has escaped from Cordell’s control, and what their plan is.   
> Hope you also enjoyed the scene between Harry/Voldemort ;)  
> I know a lot of you have wanted something like that for a while, so there it is.
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts,  
> Drops of Nightshade x


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